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Class _SKi;Le_L_ 
Book '^ z^ ^ 

(S2EXRIGMT DEPOSm 



THE BOOK OF WOODCRAFT 



The Book of 
Woodcraft 

ANDlNDIANLom 




Wiih OverSOODr&mn^s 
By /he Au/Aor 

ErnestThompsonSeion 

ft 

^UTHOR OY Wild Animdis I Have Known, ^ 
Th^o Little Savages, ISio^raphy of a GrJzz^, 
%ife Histories of Northern Anirnalsl* „ 
*7ii>//in the Wbods^ The Foresters' Manual 

Head Chie/qfffic 
Woodcrajt Indians. 



Garden City J^eiu VorK. 

Doubtedajr, Tage t&l Company 

1922 



c^\('^ 



0^ 



£^6"^ 






Copyright, 1912, 1921, 5y 

Ernest Thompson Seton 

jill rights reserved, including that of 

translation into foreign languages, 

including the Scandinavian 



MAR 13 '22 



0)CIA659101 



-\ . .. k 



PREFACE 

For over thirty years I have been giving the talks and demon- 
strations that are gathered together in this book. Many of 
them have appeared in magazines or in the "Birch-Bark Roll" 
that has come out annually for eighteen years. But this is 
the first time in which a comprehensive collection has been 
made of the activities, customs, laws, and amusements that 
have been developed in my camps. 

Some of the related subjects I have treated at too great 
length for enclosure in one book. Of this class are the "Life 
Histories of Northern Animals," "Animal Stories," and "Sign 
Language," which appear as separate works. All are merely 
parts of a scheme that I have always considered my Ufe work, 
namely, the development or revival of Woodcraft as a school for 
Manhood. 

By Woodcraft I mean outdoor life in its broadest sense and 
the plan has ever been with me since boyhood. 

Woodcraft is the first of all the sciences. It was Woodcraft 
that made man out of brutish material, and Woodcraft in its 
highest form may save him from decay. 

As the model for outdoor life in this country I took the 
Indian, and have thus been obliged to defend him against the 
calumnies of those who coveted his possessions. In giving 
these few historical extracts to show the Indian character, it 
must be remembered that I could give hundreds, and that prac- 
tically all the travelers who saw with their own eyes are of one 
mind in the matter. 

Commissioner Robert G. Valentine, of the Indian Bureau, 
the first Indian Commissioner we have ever had who knew and 
sympathized with the Indians, writes after reading my manu- 
script: 



Preface 

"On the question of the character of the Indians I am in 
absolute accord with you on everything that I believe any one 
would consider a basic point. In speech after speech I have 
fought the idea that Indians were cruel or lazy or vicious, and 
dwelt on their positive virtues — among these their sense of 
humor, and their deep reverence."* 

The portions of the manuscript called" Spartans of the West, " 
and "Campfire Stories of Indian Character," have been sub- 
mitted to George Bird Grinnell, of New York, whose life has 
been largely spent among the Indians, and have received from 
him a complete endorsement. 

In a similar vein I have heard from Dr. Charles A. Eastman, 
and from nearly all of the many who have seen the manuscript. 
Some of my friends at the Smithsonian Institution take excep- 
tion to certain details, but no one denies the main contentions 
in regard to the character of the Indian, or the historical ac- 
curacy of the " Campfire Stories." 

Gen. Nelson A. Miles, for example, writes me: "History can 
show no parallel to the heroism and fortitude of the American 
Indians in the two hundred years' fight during which they 
contested inch by inch the possession of their country against a 
foe infinitely better equipped with inexhaustible resources, and 
in overwhelming numbers. Had they even been equal in 
numbers, history might have had a very different story to tell." 

I was taught to glorify the names* of Xenophon, Leonidas, 
Spartacus, the Founders of the Dutch Republic or the Noble 
Six Hundred at Balaclava, as the ideals of human courage 
and self-sacrifice, and yet I know of nothing in all history that 
will compare with the story of Dull Knife as a narrative of 
magnificent heroism and human fortitude. 

While I set out only to justify the Indian as a model for our 



*The great racial defects of the Indians were revengefulness and disunion, 
and, latterly, proneness to strong drink. They taught the duty of revenge; 
so that it was easy to begin a feud, but hard to end one. Instead of a 
nation, they were a multitude of factions, each ready to join an outsider 
for revenge on its rival neighbor. This incapacity for team play pre 
vented the development of their civilization and proved their ruin. 



VI 



Preface 

boys in camp, I am not without hope that this may lead to a 
measure of long-delayed justice being accorded him. He asks 
only the same rights as are allowed without question to all other 
men in America — the protection of the courts, the right to 
select his own religion, dress, amusements, and the equal 
right to the pursuit of happiness so long as his methods do not 
conflict with the greater law of the land. 

This book is really the eleventh edition of the "Birch-Bark 
Roll," which I have published yearly and expanded yearly since 
1902. On the first day of July that year I founded the first 
band of Woodcraft Indians. Since then the growth of the 
movement has called for constant revision and expansion. In 
the present volume, for the first time, I have fully set forth a 
justification of my Indian Ideal. 

I am deeply indebted to my friend, Edgar Beecher Bronson, 
for permission to include the History of Chief Dull Knife's 
March, which appeared in his "Reminiscences of- a Ranch- 
man." It is a story that should be known to all the world. 

I have also to express my obligations to Messrs. Charles 
Scribner's Sons for permission to quote from Capt. J. O. Bourke's 
writings, to J. W. Schultz for the use of his charming story of 
"No-Heart," to Messrs. The Fleming H. Revell Co., for permis- 
sion to quote F. W. Calkins' story of the "Two Wilderness 
Voyagers," to Miss Alice C. Fletcher for the use of two Indian 
songs from her book "Indian Story and Song," as noted, to 
Edward S. Curtis for the use of Sitting Bull's "War Song," 
to Dr. Clinton L. Bag? for help in the "First Aid," to Dr. C. 
C. Curtis for the identification of toadstools, to Dr. Charles 
A. Eastman (Ohiyesa) for general criticism and for special 
assistance in the chapters on "The Indian's Creed," "Teepee 
Etiquette," and the "Teachings of Wabasha I." 

Also to Robert G. Valentine (Indian Commissioner) and 
George Bird Grimell of New York for critical reading of the 
historical parts of the book. 

The section on Forest Trees appeared originally as a separate 
handbook called "The Foresters' Manual" in 1912. In it I aim 



Preface 

to give the things that appealed to me as a boy: First the iden- 
tification of the tree, second where it is found, third its prop- 
erties and uses, and last, various interesting facts about it. 

I have included much information about native dyes, because 
it is all in the line of creating interest in the trees; and be- 
cause it would greatly improve our color sense if we could 
return to vegetable dyes, and abandon the anilines that have 
in many cases displaced them. So also because of the interest 
evoked as well as for practical reasons I have given sundry 
medical items; some of these are from H. Howard's "Botanic 
Medicine," 1850. Several of the general notes are from George 
B. Emerson's "Trees and Shrubs of Massachusetts," 1846. 

As starting point I have used Britton and Brown's "Illus- 
trated Flora" (Scribner, 1896) and have got much help from 
Harriet L. Keeler's "Our Native Trees" (Scribner, 1900). 

The illustrations were made by myself from fresh specimens 
in the woods, or in some cases from preserved specimens in 
the Museum of the New York Botanical Garden at Bronx 
Park. 

The maps were made for this work by Norman Taylor, 
Curator of Plants in the Brooklyn Botanic Garden, N. Y., 
with corrections in Canada by Prof. John Macoun of the Geo- 
logical Survey at Ottawa, Canada. 

To Dr. N. L. Britton, Norman Taylor, and Prof. John 
Macoun, I extend my hearty thanks for their kind and able 
assistance. 

The names of trees are those used in Britton' s "North 
American Trees," 1908. 

When I was a boy I hungered beyond expression for just 
such information as I have tried herein to impart. It would 
be a great joy to me if I could reach and help a considerable 

viii 



Preface 

number of such heart-hungry boys tormented with an insa- 
tiate instinct for the woods, and if I fail of this, I shall at least 
have the lasting pleasures of having lived through these things 
myself and of having written about them. 



^'^J/l/UU^ /t,i^^.^ f^^/c^^i^ 




IX 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Preface v 

Table of the Fifteen Sections: 

I. Principles of Woodcraft 

Nine Important Principles 3 

Recreation 4 

Camp-life 4 

Self-government, with Adult Guidance . . 4 

The Magic of the Campfire 4 

Woodcraft Pursuits $ 

Honors by Standards 6 

Personal Decoration for Personal Achieve- 
ments 6 

A Heroic Ideal 6 

Picturesqueness in Everything .... 7 

The Ideal 7 

II. The Spartans of the West 

The Indian Way 9 

The Indian's Creed 11 

The Dark Side 13 

The Bright Side 20 

Reverence 20 

Cleanliness 24 

Chastity 27 

Bravery 28 

Thrift and Providence 29 

Cheerfulness or the Merry Indian . . 31 

Obedience 32 

Kindness 34 

Hospitality 36 

Treatment of Their Women .... 37 

Courtesy and Polite Behavior ... 41 

xi 



Contents 

PAGE 

The Spartans of the West — Continued 

Honesty 43 

Truthfulness and Honor 45 

Temperance and Sobriety 47 

Physique 49 

In General 51 

Summary 55 

Standard Indian Books 59 

III. Woodland Songs, Dances, and Ceremonies 

Omaha Tribal Prayer 61 

Sitting Bull's War Song 62 

The Ghost Dance Song 63 

The Peace Pipe Ceremony 64 

The Scalp Dance 65 

Bird Dance Song 66 

The Mujje Mukesin 66 

The Lament 68 

The Caribou Dance 68 

The Dance of the White Caribou .... 70 

The Dog Dance 72 

The Ojibwa Snake Dance 74 

The Hunting of Mishi-Mokwa 75 

Indian Song Books 80 

The Weasel in the Wood 80 

Le Furet 81 

Rouser or Reveille 82 

rv. Suggested Programs 

A Series of Monthly Programs 83 

Suggestions for Evenings 87 

Animal Story Books for Evenings .... 88 

Indoor or Winter Activities 89 

Handicraft 89 

Games 89 

Studies 90 

Songs 90 

Dances 90 

Robe Contest 90 

Suggested Camp Routine 92 

xii 



Contents 

PAGE 

Suggested Programs — Continued 

Good Program of an Entertainment at a 

Council 92 

Indoor Competition for a Prize 92 

One-day Hikes 93 

V. General Scouting Indoors 

Handicraft Stunts 96 

Fork and Spoon 96 

Needle Case 96 

Tackle Box 96 

Peach Stone Basket 96 

Turkey Call 96 

Chicken Squawk 96 

Picture Frames 97 

Birch-bark vessels 98 

Souvenir Spoons 98 

Knots 99 

Fireside Trick 102 

The Lone Star Trick 102 

Bird Boxes or Houses 103 

How to Raise Some Money 106 

VI. General Scouting Outdoors 

Rubbing-stick Fire ........ 108 

Hiking in the Snow no 

Weather Wisdom 115 

Outdoor Proverbs 117 

The Stars 118 

The Pleiades as a Test of Eyesight . . . 124 

The Twin Stars 127 

The Planets . 127 

The Moon 129 

Making a Dam 129 

When Lost in the Woods 130 

Indian Tweezers 131 

A Home-made Compass 132 

An Indian Clock, Shadow Clock or Sundial . 132 

Lights 133 

Hunter's Lamp 133 

Woodman's Lantern 133 

xiii 



Contents 

PAGE 

General Scouting Outdoors —Continued 

Cainp Loom aad Grass Mats 135 

Na aho Loom 136 

Camp Rake 138 

Camp Broom 139 

Building a Boat 140 

A Dugout Canoe 141 

Camp Horn 142 

Sleep Outdoors 142 

The- Gee-string Camp 143 

VII. Signaling and Indian Signs 

Sign Language 144 

Picture-writing 155 

Blazes and Indian Signs 161 

Blazes 161 

Stone Signs 163 

Grass and Twig Signs 163 

Smoke Signals 164 

Signal by Shots 165 

Special Signs 165 

Weather Signals 167 

Signals on the Railway 168 

The Code 169 

Colors 169 

Hand, Flag, and Lamp Signals .... 169 

Other Hand Signals 169 

Signals by Engine Whistle 169 

Air Whistle or Cord-pull 170 

VIII. Campercraft or the Summer Camp 

Camping Out 172 

Outfit for Six (one week) 173 

Outfit for Each Brave 176 

Tents 177 

Teepee 177 

The Camp Ground 178 

Latrine 178 

Arriving on the Camp Ground 179 

Camp Officers and Government . . . . 179 

The Dog Soldiers 181 

xiv 



Contents 

PAGE 

Campercraft or the Summer Camp — Continued 

Inspection i8i 

The Horns of the High Hikers 182 

Council-fire Circle 182 

Totem-pole 183 

Councils 184 

Beds 185 

Water or the Indian Well 186 

Mosquitos, Black Flies, etc 186 

Lice and Vermin 187 

Suggested Camp Routine 187 

Campfires 187 

Council-fire 190 

Firearms 191 

Camp Cookery . . 192 

War-sack 194 

Scout Buttons 194 

Lace or Thong 195 

DC. Games for the Camp 

Interesting Pursuits 196 

Tilting Spears 196 

Tilting in the Water 197 

Tub-Tilting on Land 198 

Still-hunting the Buck, or the Deer Hunt . . 199 

The Bear Hunt 202 

Spearing the Great Sturgeon 204 

Canoe Tag 206 

Scouting 206 

Quicksight 207 

Far-sight or Spot-the-rabbit 208 

Home Star or Pole Star 208 

Rabbit Hunt 209 

Arrow Fight 209 

Hostile Spy 210 

Scout Messenger 211 

Challenge for Scout Messenger 211 

Tree the Coon 212 

Navajo Feather Da'^ce 212 

Feather Football or Feather-blow .... 213 

Cock-fighting 213 

XV 



Contents 












PAGE 


Games for the Camp — Continued 


One-legged Chicken Fight ai;^ 


Stronghand 


• 






213 


Badger-puUing .... 


• i 






214 


Stung, or Step-on-the-rattler 


• t 






214 


Buffalo Chips .... 


• i 






214 


Rat-on-his-lodge .... 










21 s 


Watching by the Trail . . 










216 


Trailing 










216 


Apache Relay Race . 










217 


The Weasel in the Wood 










217 


Throwing the Spear . 










217 


Water-boiling Contest . . 










218 


Medley Scouting .... 










218 



X. Health and Woodland Medicine 
First Aid: 

To Revive from Drowning 221 

Sunstroke 222 

Burns and Scalds 222 

Hemorrhage or Internal Bleeding . . . 222 

Cuts and Wounds 223 

Lightning 223 

Shock or Nervous Collapse 223 

Fainting 223 

Mad Dog or Snake Bite 224 

Insect Stings 224 

Tests of Death 224 

Cinders or Sand in the Eye 224 

Books Recommended 224 

Wild wood Remedies or Simples: 

Antiseptic or Wound Wash 225 

Balm for Wounds 225 

Bleeding, to Stop 225 

Bowel Complaint 225 

Bowel Tonic 225 

Chills and Fever 225 

Cold or Fever Cure 225 

Cough Remedy 225 

Cough and Irritated Throat 228 

xvi 



Contents 



PAGE 



WiLDWOOD Remedies or Simples — Continued 

Cough and Lung Remedy 228 

Diuretic 228 

Face-ache 228 

Inflammation of the Eyes or Skin . . . 228 



Ink 



228 



Lung Balm 228 

Nose-bleed 228 

Nose Stopped up at Night 228 

Pimples and Skin Rash 228 

Poison Ivy Sting 228 

Purge, Mild 230 

" Strong 230 

" Fierce 230 

Rheumatism 230 

Sores and W( unds 231 

Sunburn 231 

Sweater 232 

Tapeworm 232 

Tonic 233 

Wash for Sore Throat 233 

Worms 233 

Worms and Tonic 234 

Wound Wash, (see Antiseptic) .... 234 

Indian Bath or Sweat Lodge 234 

Latrine ^35 

The Keen Eyes of the Indian 235 

Near-sightedness 235 

The Remedy 235 

Dry Socks ' ' '^^^ 

Shut Your Mouth and Save Your Life . . 236 

Don't Turn out Your Toes Much .... 237 

Tobacco 237 

Sex Matters 239 

Starvation Foods in the Northern Woods . . 240 

Rabbits 241 

Mice 243 

Ants 243 

Insect Borers 243 

Rawhide and Leather 243 

Bark and Buds 244 



xvu 



Contents 

PAGE 

WiLDWooD Remedies or Simples — Continued 

Toadstools 244 

Lichens 245 

Iceland Moss 245 

Reindeer Moss 246 

Rock Tripe 247 

Drinks: Labrador Tea 249 

XL Natural History 

Our Common Birds, or Forty Birds that 

Every Boy Should Know 250 

How to Stuff a Bird 268 

Making a Skin 269 

Mounting the Bird ....... 275 

Owl-stuffing Plate 279 

Stuffing an Animal 279 

Preserving Small Mammal Skins .... 281 

Directions for Measurement 281 

Directions for the Preparation of Skins . . 283 

Trapping Animals 285 

The Secrets of the Trail 285 

Trailing 286 

Hard to Photograph Tracks 286 

No Two Tracks alike 287 

Dog and Cat 288 

Wolf 291 

Rabbits and Hares 293 

The Newton Jack-rabbit 295 

Fox 298 

The Fox's Hunt 301 

Closing In 304 

Books and Articles Recommended . . . 306 

XIL Mushrooms, Fungi or Toadstools 

Abundance 307 

Dangers 308 

To Make Spore Prints for Study . . . 309 

Poisonous Toadstools 310 

Symptoms of Poisoning 314 

Remedy 314 

Unwholesome but Not Deadly Toadstools . . 315 

xviii 



Contents 

PAGE 

Mushrooms, Fungi or To \D5tools— Continued 

Wholesome Toadstools 3i8 

Uncertain Kinds 3^3 

Cautions for the Inexperienced . . . . 325 

Mushroom Growing 325 

Books Recommended 325 

XIII. Forestry 

PiNACE^— Conifers or Pine Family 

White Pine, Weymouth Pine (Pinus Strobus). 329 
Red Pine, Canadian Pine, Norway Pine {Pinus 

resinosa) • • 33^ 

Long-leaved Pine, Georgia Pine, Southern 

Pine, Yellow Pine, Hard Pine {Pinus palus- 

tris) ' 331 

Tack-Pine, Banksian Pine, Gray Pine, Labrador 

Pine, Hudson Bay Pine, Northern Scrub Pme 

{Pinus Banksiana) • • 332 

Jersey Pine, Scrub Pine {Pinus Virginiana) 333 

Yellow Pine, Spruce Prne, Short-leaved Pme, 

Bull Pine {Pinus echinata) 334 

Table Mountain Pine, Hickory Pine {Pinus 

pungens) • . • 335 

Loblolly, Old Field Pine, Frankincense Pme 

{Pinus Taeda) -33^ 

Pitch Pine, Torch Pine, Sap Pine, Candlewood 

Tine {Pinus rigida) • .• 337 

Tamarack, Larch or Hackmatack {Lanx 

laricina) ^ 33° 

White Spruce {Picea Canadensis) . . • • 339 
Black Spruce, Swamp Spruce {Picea Mari- 
ana) 341 

Red Spruce {Picea rubens) 342 

Hemlock {Tsuga Canadensis) 343 

Balsam Tree or Canada Balsam {Abies bal- 

samea) x' ' ' ' ^^^ 

Bald Cypress {Taxodium distichum) . ■ ■ 347 

Arbor-vitffi or White Cedar {Thuja occi- 

dentalic) : ' , ■ ^^ 

Southern Arbor-vitffi {Chamacypans thy- 

oides) 349 

xix 



Contents 

PAGE 

PiNACEiE — Conifers or Pine Family — Continued 

Red Cedar or Juniper (Juniperus Vir- 
giniana) 351 

Salicace^ — ^The Willow Family 

Black Willow {Salix nigra) 352 

Crack Willow, Brittle Willow {Salix fragilis). 353 
Golden Willow, Golden Osier, Yellow Willow 

or White Willow {Salix alba) 354 

Pussy Willow or Glaucous Willow {Salix dis- 
color) 355 

Bebb's Willow, Fish-net Willow or Withy 

Willow {Salix Bebbiana) 356 

Quaking Asp, Quiver Leaf, Aspen Poplar or 

Fopple {Populus tremuloides) 357 

Large-toothed Aspen {Populus grandidentata) . 359 
Swamp, Downy or Black Poplar {Populus 

heterophylla) 360 

Balsam Poplar, Balm of Gilead, or Tacamahac 

{Populus balsamifera) . . .... 361 

Cottonwood {Populus deltoides) . . . . 362 

White Poplar, Silver Poplar or Abele {Populus 

alba) 363 

Lombardy Poplar {Populus dilatata) . . . 364 

JUGLANDACEiE OR WaLNUT FaMILY 

Black Walnut {Juglans nigra) 365 

White Walnut, Oil Nut or Butternut {Juglans 

cinerea) 367 

Pecan {Hicoria Pecan) 369 

Bitter Nut or Swamp-Hickory {Hicoria cordi- 

formis) 370 

Water Hickory {Hicoria aquatica) . . . . 371 
Shagbark, Shellbark or White Hickory {Hicoria 

ovata) 372 

The Big Shell-Bark or King-Nut {Hicoria 

laciniosa) 373 

Mockernut, White Heart or Big-Bud Hickory 

{Hicoria alba) 374 

Pignut Hickory {Hicoria glabra) . . . .375 

Small Fruited Hickory {Hicoria microcarpa) . 376 

XX 



Contents 

PAGE 

BETULACE.E — BiRCH FAMILY 

Gray Birch or Aspen-leaved Birch {Betula 
populifolia) 377 

White, Canoe or Paper Birch {Betula papyri- 
fera) 378 

Red Birch or River Birch (Betula nigra) . 380 

Yellow Birch, Gray Birch (Betula lutea) 381 

Black, Cherry, Sweet or Mahogany Birch 
(Betula lutea) 382 

Alder or Smooth Alder, Tag Alder (Alnus 
serrulata) 383 

Ironwood, Hard-Hack, Leverwood, Beetle- 
Wood or Hop Hornbeam. (Ostrya Vir- 
giniana) 384 

Blue Beech, Water Beech or American Horn- 
beam (Carpinus Caroliniana) .... 385 

Fagace^ — Beech Family 

White Oak (Quercus alba) 386 

Post-Oak, or Iron Oak (Quercus stellata) 388 
Overcup, Swamp or Post Oak (Quercus 

lyrata) 389 

Bur Oak, Cork-Bark or Mossy Cup (Quercus 

macrocarpa) 390 

Rock Chestnut Oak (Quercus Prinus) . . . 392 

Scrub Chestnut Oak (Quercus prinoides) 393 
Yellow Oak, Chestnut Oak or Chinquapin 

Scrub Oak (Quercus Muhlenhergii) . . . 394 

Swamp White Oak (Quercus bicolor) . . . 395 

Red Oak (Quercus rubra) 396 

Scarlet Oak (Quercus coccinea) 397 

Black Oak, Golden Oak, or Quercitron (Quercus 

velutina) 398 

Pin Oak or Swamp Oak (Quercus palustris) 399 
Black Jack or Barren Oak (Quercus Marilan- 

dica) 400 

Spanish Oak (Quercus triloba) 401 

Bear or Scrub Oak (Quercus ilicifolia) . . 402 

Water Oak (Quercus nigra) 403 

Beech (Fagus grandifolia) 404 

Chestnut (Castanea dentata) 405 

xxi 



Contents 

PAGB 

FAGACEiE — Beech Family — Continuzl 

Chinquapin {Castanea pumlla) 406 

Ulmace^ — Elm Family 

White Ekn, Water or Swamp Ehn {Ulmus 

Americana) 407 

Slippery Elm, Moose or Red Elm (Ulmus 

fulva) 408 

Rock, Cliff, Hickory or Cork Elm (Ulmus 

Thomasi) 409 

Winged Elm or Wahoo (Ulmus alata) . . 410 

Hackberry, Sugarberry, Nettle-tree or False 

Elm (Ciltis occidentalis) 412 

MoRACEiE — Mulberry Family 

Red Mulberry (Morus rubra) 413 

Osage Orange or Bow-wood (Toxylon pomi- 
ferum) 414 

Magnoliace^e — Magnolia Family 

Tulip Tree, White- Wood, Canoe Wood or Yel- 
low Poplar (Liriodendron Ttdipifera) . . 415 

Sweet Bay, Laurel Magnolia, White Bay, 
Swamp Laurel, Swamp Sassafras or Beaver 
Tree (Magnolia Virginiana) 417 

Cucumber Tree or Mountain Magnolia (Mag- 
nclia acuminata) 418 

LAURACEiE — Laurel Family 

Spice-Bush, Fever-Bush, Wild Allspice, Ben- 
jamin Bush (Benzoin odoriferum) . . . .419 
Sassafras, Ague-tree (Sassafras Sassafras) . . 420 

HAMAMELIDACEiE — WiTCH HaZEL FaMILY 

Witch Hazel, Winter Bloom or Snapping Hazel 

Nut (Hamamelis Virginiana) . . . 422 

Altingiace^ — Sweet Gum Family 

Sweet-Gum, Star-Leaved or Red-Gum, Bilsted, 
Alligator Tree or Liquidanibar (Liquidambar 
Styracijlua) 424 

zzii 



Contents 

fAce 

Platanace^ — Plane Tree Family 

Sycamore, Plane Tree, Buttonball or Button- 
wood (Piatanus occidentalis) 425 

AMYGDALACEiE — PlUM FaMILY 

Choke-Cherry (Padus Virginiana) .... 427 
Black Cherry, Cabinet or Rum Cherry {Padus 
serotina) 428 

MALACEiE — Apple Family 

Scarlet Haw, Hawthorn, Thorn-Apple or 
Apple-Haw {Crataegus mollis) .... 430 

CffiSALPiNiACE^ — Senna Family 

Red-Bud or Judas-Tree (Cercis Canadensis) 431 
Honey of Sweet Locust, Three-thorned Acacia 

(Gleditsia triacanthos) 432 

Kentucky Coffee-Tree {Gymnocladus dioica) . 433 

FABACEiE — Pea Family 

Black or Yellow Locust, Silver-Chain (Robinia 
Pseudacacia) 434 

Anacardiace^ — Sumac Family 

Staghorn or Velvet Sumac, Vinegar Tree (Rhus 

hirta) 435 

Dwarf Black or Upland or Mountain Sumac 

{Rhus copallina) 437 

Poison Sumac, Poison Elder {Toxicodendron 

Vernix) 438 

Poison Climbing or Three-leaved Ivy. Poison 

Oak, Climath {Toxicodendron vulgare) . . 439 

AcERACEiE — Maple Family 

Striped Maple, Goosefoot Maple or Moosewood 

{Acer Penns-yLanicum) 440 

Mountain Maple (Acer spicatum) . . . .441 
Sugar Maple, Rock Maple or Hard Maple 

{Acer saccharum) 442 

Silver Maple, White or Soft Maple {Acer 

saccharinum) 443 

xxiii 



Contents 

PAGE 

AcERACE^ — Maple Family — Continued 

Red, Scarlet, Water or Swamp Maple {Acer 

ruhrum) 444 

Box Elder or Ash-leaved Maple {Acer 

Negundo) 446 

^sculace^ — Buckeye Family 

Buckeye, Fetid Buckeye, Ohio Buckeye {^scu- 

lus glabra) 447 

Yellow Sweet or Big Buckeye {Msculus 

octandra) 448 

Horse-Chestnut or Bongay {Msculus Hippo- 

castanum) 449 

Tiliace^ — ^Linden Family 

Basswood, White-wood, Whistle-wood, Lime or 
Linden {Tilia Americana) 450 

Cornace/E — Dogwood Family 

Flowering Dogwood, Arrow-wood, Boxwood, 

Coxn&MsLn Tret {Cynoxylon floridum) . . 452 
Sour Gum, Black Gum, Pepperidge or Tupelo 

{Nyssa syhaticd) 453 

Ebenace^ — Ebony Family 

Persimmon or Date-Plum {Diospyros 
virginiana) 454 

Oleace^e, Olive Family (Including the Ashes) 

White Ash {Fraxinus americana) .... 455 
Red Ash or Green Ash {Fraxinus pennsyl- 

vanica) 456 

Water Ash {Fraxinus caroliniana) . -458 

Blue Ash {Fraxinus quadrangulata) . 459 

Black Ash, Hoop Ash or Water Ash {Fraxinus 

nigra) 460 

Caprifollaci^ — Honeysuckle Family 

Elder, Elder-Blow, Elderberry, Sweer Elder or 
Bore-Plant {Samhucus canadensis) . .461 

zxiv 



Contents 

PAGE 

Caprifoliaci^ — Honeysuckle Family — Continued 

High Bush Cranberry, Cranberry Tree, Wild 

Guelder Rose (Viburnum opulus) . . .462 
Maple-Leaved Arrow- wood, Dock-Makie (Vi- 
burnum acerifolium) 464 

Arrow- wood (Viburnum dentatum) . .465 

Nanny-Berry, Nanny-Bush, Sheep-Berry, 
Blackthorn, Sweet Viburnum (Viburnum 

Lentagd) 466 

Black Haw, Stag-Bush, Sloe (Viburnum pruni- 

folium) 467 

XIV. Some Indian Ways 

Teepees 468 

Storm-cap or Bull Boat 471 

Putting up the Teepee 472 

Teepee Life 473 

Hairy- Wolf s Teepee 475 

Art 478 

Indian Seats 479 

Head Band . 482 

Warbonnet or Headdress 483 

Its Meaning 483 

Plenty-Coups 485 

Details of the Warbonnet 486 

Making the Warbonnet 488 

Indian Costume 489 

War-shirt 489 

Leggings 493 

Moccasins 493 

War-clubs 493 

Paddles 493 

Drum 493 

Peace Pipe 493 

The Indian or Willow Bed 495 

Indian Paints 499 

Indian Dyes 501 

Naming the Camp or Keeping the Winter Count 502 

Archery 502 

How to Make a Bow 503 

Holding and Drawing 505 

XXV 



Contents 

PAGE 

Some Indian Ways — Continued 

The Warbow of the Penobscots 505 

Scalps 507 

Indian Work 508 

XV. Campfire Stories or Glimpses of Indian 
Character 

The Teachings of Winnemucca 509 

The Teachings of Wabasha 1 509 

The Lessons of Lone Chief 510 

The Teachings of Tshut-che-nau 511 

Courage or the Trained Scout 512 

An Indian Prayer 512 

Genesis (Omaha) 512 

The Quiche's Story of Creation 513 

Clean Fatherhood 514 

Omaha Proverbs 514 

The Medicine Man and His Ways .... 514 

The Indian Silence 515 

The Indian Babes in the Woods . .516 

The Story of No-Heart 517 

Tecumseh 524 

Kanakuk, the Kickapoo Prophet . .526 

Chief Joseph of the Sahaptin 528 

White Calf, Chief of the Blackfeet . . . .531 

Wovoka, the Prophet 534 

The Apache Indian's Case 537 

The Wiping-out of Nanni-Chaddi .... 539 

The Ending of Dull Knife's Band .... 548 

The Message of the Indian 573 

Index 577 



scvi 



THE BOOK OF WOODCRAFT 



L Principles of Woodcraft 

Nine Important Principles of Woodcraft 

THIS is a time when the whole nation is turning 
toward the Outdoor Life, seeking in it the physical 
regeneration so needful for continued national 
existence — is waking to the fact long known to thoughtful 
men, that those live longest who live nearest to the ground 
— that is, who live the simple life of primitive times, dives- 
ted, however, of the evils that ignorance in those times begot. 

Consumption, the white man's plague since he has be- 
come a house race, is vanquished by the sun and air, and 
many ills of the mind also are forgotten when the sufferer 
boldly takes to the life in tents. 

Half our diseases are in our minds and half in our houses. 
We can safely leave the rest to the physicians for treatment. 

Sport is the great incentive to Outdoor Life; Nature 
Study is the intellectual side of sport. 

I should like to lead this whole nation into the way of 
living outdoors for at least a month each year, reviving and 
expanding a custom that as far back as Moses was deemed 
essential to the national well-being. 

Not long ago a benevolent rich man, impressed with this 
idea, chartered a steamer and took some hundreds of slum 
boys up to the Catskills for a day in the woods. They were 
duly landed and told to "go in now and have a glorious 
time." It was like gathering up a netful of catfish and 



4 The Book of Woodcraft 

throwing them into the woods, saying, " Go and have a 
glorious time." 

The boys sulked around and sullenly disappeared. An 
hour later, on being looked up, they were found in groups 
under the bushes, smoking cigarettes, shooting *' craps," 
and playing cards — the only things they knew. 

Thus the well-meaning rich man learned that it is not 
enough to take men out of doors. We much also teach 
them to enjoy it. 

The purpose of this book is to show how Outdoor Life 
may be followed to advantage. 

Nine leading principles are kept in view: 

(i) This movement is essentially for recreation. 

(2) Camp-life. Camping is the simple Ufe reduced to 
actual practice, as well as the culmination of the outdoor Ufe. 

Camping has no great popularity to-day, because men 
have the idea that it is possible only after an expensive 
journey to the wilderness; and women that it is inconven- 
ient, dirty, and dangerous. 

These are errors. They have arisen because camping as 
an art is not understood. When intelligently followed, 
cam.p-life must take its place as a cheap and delightful way 
of living, as well as a mental and physical savior of those 
strained or broken by the grind of the over-busy world. 

The wilderness affords the ideal camping, but many of 
the benefits can be got by Uving in a tent on a town lot, 
a piazza, or even a housetop. 

(3) Self-government with Adult Guidance. Control from 
without is a poor thing when you can get control from 
within. As far as possible, then, we make these camps self- 
governing. Each full member has a vote in affairs. 

(4) The Magic of the Campflre. What is a camp with- 
out a campfire? — no camp at all, but a chilly place in a 



Principles of Woodcraft 5 

landscape, where some people happen to have some 
things. 

When first the brutal anthropoid stood up and walked 
erect — was man, the great event was symbolized and 
marked by the lighting of the first campfire. 

For millions of years our race has seen in this blessed fire, 
the means and emblem of light, warmth, protection, friendly 
gathering, council. All the hallow of the ancient thoughts, 
hearth, fireside, home is centred in its glow, and the home- 
tie itself is weakened with the waning of the home-fire. 
Not in the steam radiator can we find the spell; not in the 
water coil; not even in the gas log; they do not reach the 
heart. Only the ancient sacred fire of wood has power to 
touch and thrill the chords of primitive remembrance. 
When men sit together at the campfire they seem to shed 
all modern form and poise, and hark back to the primitive 
— to meet as man and man — to show the naked soul. 
Your campfire partner wins your love, or hate, mostly 
your love; and having camped in peace together, is a lasting 
bond of union — however wide your worlds may be apart. 

The campfire, then, is the focal centre of all primitive 
brotherhood. We shall not fail to use its magic powers. 

(5) Woodcraft Pursuits. Realizing that manhood, not 
scholarship, is the first aim of education, we have sought out 
those pursuits which develop the finest character, the finest 
physique, and which may be followed out of doors, which, in 
a word, make for manhood. 

By nearly every process of logic we are led primarily to 
Woodcraft — that is. Woodcraft in a large sense — meaning 
every accomplishment of an all-round Woodman — Rid- 
ing, Hunting, Camper-craft, Scouting, Mountaineering, 
Indian-craft, First aid. Star-craft, Signaling, and Boating. 
To this we add all good Outdoor Athletics and Sports, 
including Sailing and Motoring, and Nature Study, of 



6 The Book of Woodcraft 

which Wild Animal Photography is an important branch; 
but above all, Heroism. 

Over three hundred deeds or exploits are recognized in 
these various departments, and the members are given decora- 
tions that show what they achieved. (See Woodcraft Manual.) 

(6) Honors by Standards. The competitive principle is 
responsible for much that is evil. We see it rampant in 
our colleges to-day, where every effort is made to discover 
and develop a champion, while the great body of students is 
neglected. That is, the ones who are in need of physical 
development do not get it, and those who do not need it are 
over-developed. The result is much unsoundness of many 
kinds. A great deal of this would be avoided if we strove to 
bring all the individuals up to a certain standard. In our 
non-competitive tests the enemies are noV^ the other fellows/^ 
but time and space, the forces of Nature. We try not to 
down the others, but to raise ourselves. A thorough appli- 
cation of this principle would end many of the evils now 
demoralizing college athletics. Therefore, all our honors 
are bestowed according to world-wide standards. (Prizes 
are not honors.) (See Woodcraft Manual.) 

(7) Personal Decoration for Personal Achievements. 
The love of glory is the strongest motive in a savage. Civil- 
ized man is supposed to find in high principle his master 
impulse. But those who beUeve that the men of our race, 
not to mention boys, are civilized in this highest sense, 
would be greatly surprised if confronted with figures. 
Nevertheless, a human weakness may be good material to 
work with. I face the facts as they are. All have a chance 
for glory through the standards, and we blazon it forth in 
personal decorations that all can see, have, and desire. 

(8) A Heroic Ideal. The boy from ten to fifteen, like the 
savage, is purely physical in his ideals. I do not know that 
I ever met a boy that would not rather be John L. Sullivan 



Principles of Woodcraft 7 

than Darwin or Tolstoi. Therefore, I accept the fact, and 
seek to keep in view an ideal that is physical, but also clean, 
manly, heroic, already familiar, and leading with certainty 
to higher things. 

(9) Picturesqueness in Everything. Very great impor- 
tance should be attached to this. The effect of the pictur- 
esque is magical, and all the more subtle and irresistible 
because it is not on the face of it reasonable. The charm of 
titles and gay costumes, of the beautiful in ceremony, 
phrase, dance, and song, are utilized in all ways. 

THE IDEAL 

When two or three young people camp out, they can live 
as a sort of family, especially if a grown-up be with them; 
but when a dozen or more are of the party, it is necessary 
to organize. 

What manner of organization will be practical, and also 
give full recognition to the nine principles of scouting? 
What form of government lends itself best to — 

Recreation; 

Outdoor Life; 

Self-rule; 

The Campfire; 

Woodcraft traditions; 

Honors by standards; 

Personal decoration for personal achievement; 

A heroic ideal; 

Picturesqueness in all things? 
In my opinion, the Tribal or Indian form of organization. 

Fundamentally, this is a republic or limited monarchy, 
and many experiments have proved it best for our purpose. 
It makes its members self-governing; it offers appropriate 
things to do outdoors; it is so plastic that it can be adopted 



8 The Book of Woodcraft 

In whole or in part, at once or gradually; its picturesqueness 
takes immediate hold of all; and it lends itself so well to our 
object that, soon or late, other forms of organization are 
forced into its essentials. 

No large band of boys ever yet camped out for a month 
without finding it necessary to recognize a leader, a senior 
form (or ruling set whose position rests on merit), some 
wise grown person to guide them in difficulties, and a place 
to display the emblems of the camp; that is, they have 
adopted the system of the Chief, Council, Medicine Man 
and Totem-pole. 

Moreover, the Ideal Indian stands for the highest type 
of primitive life. He was a master of woodcraft, and 
unsordid, clean, manly, heroic, self-controlled, reverent, 
truthful, and picturesque always. 

America owes much to the Redman. When the struggle 
for freedom came on, it was between men of the same blood 
and bone, equal in brains and in strength. The British 
had the better equipment perhaps. The great advantage 
of the American was that he was trained in Woodcraft, 
and this training which gave him the victory, he got from 
the Redman. 

But the Redman can do a greater service now and 
in the future. He can teach us the ways of outdoor 
life, the nobility of courage, the joy of beauty, the 
blessedness of enough, the glory of service, the power 
of kindness, the super-excellence of peace of mind and 
the scorn of death. For these were the things that the 
Redman stood for; these were the sum of his faith. 



IL The Spartans of the West 

No WORLD-MOVEMENT ever yet grew as a mere 
doctrine. It must have some noble example; a 
living, appealing personality ; some man to whom 
we can point and say, "This is what we mean." All the 
great faiths of the world have had such a man, and for lack 
of one, many great and flawless truths have passed into the 
lumber-room. 

To exemplify my outdoor movement, I must have a man 
who was of this country and climate; who was physically 
beautiful, clean, unsordid, high-minded, heroic, picturesque, 
ajid a master of Woodcraft, besides which, he must be al- 
ready well-known. I would gladly have taken a man of our 
own race, but I could find none. Rollo the Sea-King, 
King Arthur, Leif Ericsson, Robin Hood, Leatherstocking, 
all suggested themselves, but none seemed to meet the 
requirements, and most were mere shadows, utterly un- 
known. Surely, all this pointed the same way. There 
was but one figure that seemed to answer all these needs: 
that was the Ideal Indian of Fenimore Cooper and Long- 
fellow. 

For this reason, I took the Native American, and called 
my organization "Woodcraft Indians." And yet, I am 
told that the prejudice against the word "Indian" has 
hurt the movement immensely. If so, it is because we do 
not know what the Indian was, and this I shall make it my 



lo The Book of Woodcraft 

sad and hopeful task, at this late day, to have our people 
realize. 

We know more about the Redman to-day than ever we 
did. Indeed, we knew almost nothing of him twenty years 
ago. We had two pictures offered us ; one, the ideal savage 
of Longfellow , the primitive man, so noble in nature that he 
was incapable of anything small or mean or wicked; the 
other was presented by those who coveted his possessions, 
and, to justify their robberies, they sketched the Indian 
as a dirty, filthy, squaUd wretch, a demon of cruelty and 
cowardice, incapable of a human emotion, and never good 
till dead. 

Which of these is the true picture? Let us calmly ex- 
amine the pages of history, taking the words and records of 
Redmen and white, friends and foes of the Indian, and be 
prepared to render a verdict, in absolute accordance mth 
that evidence, no matter where it leads us. 

Let us begin by admitting that it is fair to take the best 
examples of the red race, to represent Indian philosophy 
and goodness; even as we ourselves would prefer being 
represented by Emerson, Tolstoi, Lincoln, Spencer, Pea- 
body, General Booth, or Whitman, rather than by the 
border ruffians and cut-throat outlaws who were the prin- 
cipal exemplars of our ways among the Indians. 

It is freely admitted that in all tribes, at all times, there 
were reprobates and scoundrels, a reproach to the people; 
just as amongst ourselves we have outcasts, tramps, drunk- 
ards, and criminals. But these were despised by their own 
people, and barely tolerated. 

We must in fairness judge the Indian and his way of life 
and thought by the exemplifications of his best types: 
Hiawatha, Wabasha I, Tshut-che-nau, Ma-to-to-pa, Te- 
cumseh, Kanakuk, Chief Joseph, Dull Knife, Washakie, 



The Spartans of the West ii 

and many that loved their own people and were in no wise 
touched by the doctrines of the whites. 

If from these men we gather their beliefs,, their teachings, 
and the common thoughts that guided their Hves, we may 
fairly assume that we have outUned the creed of the best 
Indians. 

THE Indian's creed 

These are the main thoughts in the Redman's creed: 
(i) While he beHeved in many gods, he accepted the 
idea of one Supreme Spirit, who was everywhere all the 
time; whose help was needed continually, and might be 
secured by prayer and sacrifice. 

(2) He believed in the immortality of the soul, and that 
its future condition was to be determined by its behavior in 
this life. 

(3) He reverenced his body as the sacred temple of his 
spirit; and believed it his duty in all ways to perfect his 
body, that his earthly record might be the better. 

We cannot, short of ancient Greece, find his equal in 
physical perfection. 

(4) He believed in the subjection of the body by fasting, 
whenever it seemed necessary for the absolute domination 
of the spirit; as when, in some great crisis, that spirit felt 
the need for better insight. 

(5) He believed in reverence for his parents, and in old 
age supported them, even as he expected his children to 
support him. 

(6) He believed in the sacredness of property. Theft 
among Indians was unknown. 

(7) He believed that the murderer must expiate his 
crime with his Hfe; that the nearest kin was the proper 
avenger, but that for accidental manslaughter compen- 
sation might be made in goods. 



12 The Book of Woodcraft 

(8) He believed in cleanliness of body. 

(9) He believed in purity of morals. 

(10) He believed in speaking the truth, and nothing but 
the truth. His promise was absolutely binding. He hated 
and despised a liar, and held all falsehood to be an abomi- 
nation. 

(n) He believed in beautifying all things in his life. 

He had a song for every occasion — a beautiful prayer 
for every stress. His garments were made beautiful with 
painted patterns, feathers, and quill-work. He had dances 
for every fireside. He has led the world in the making of 
beautiful baskets, blankets, and canoes; while the deco- 
rations he put on lodges, weapons, clothes, dishes, and 
dwellings, beds, cradles, or grave-boards, were among the 
countless evidences of his pleasure in the beautiful, as he 
understood it. 

(12) He believed in the simple life. 

He held, first, that land belonged to the tribe, not to the 
individual; next, that the accumulation of property was the 
beginning of greed that grew into monstrous crime. 

(13) He believed in peace and the sacred obligations of 
hospitality. 

(14) He believed that the noblest of virtues was cour- 
age, and that, above all other qualities, he worshipped and 
prayed for. So also he believed that the most shameful of 
crimes was being afraid. 

(15) He believed that he should so live his Ufe that the 
fear of death could never enter into his heart; that when the 
last call came he should put on the paint and honors of a 
hero going home, then sing his death song and meet the 
end in triumph. 

If we measure this great pagan by our Ten Command- 
ments, we shall find that he accepted and obeyed them, all 



The Spartans of the West 13 

but the first and third: that is, he had many lesser gods 
besides the one Great Spirit, and he knew not the Sabbath 
Day of rest. His religious faith, therefore, was much the 
same as that of the mighty Greeks, before whom all the 
world of learning bows; not unlike that of many Christians 
and several stages higher than that of the Huxley and 
other modern schools of materiaHsm. 



THE DARK SIDE 

These are the chief charges against the Indian: 

First: He was cruel to his enemies, even torturing them 
at the stake in extreme cases. He knew nothing about for- 
giving and loving them. 

In the main, this is true. But how much less cruel he was 
than the leaders of the Christian Church in the Middle 
Ages! What Indian massacre will compare in horror with 
that of St. Bartholomew's Eve or the Massacre of Glencoe? 
Read the records of the Inquisition, or the Queen Mary 
persecutions in England, or the later James II. abomina- 
tions for further light! 

There was no torture used by the Indians that was not 
also used by the Spainards. Every frontiersman of the 
Indian days knows that in every outbreak the whites were 
the aggressors; and that in every evil count — robbery, 
torture and massacre — they did exactly as the In- 
dians did. "The ferocity of the Redman," says Bourke, 
"has been more than equaled by the ferocity of the 
Christian Caucasian," ("On the Border with Crook," 
p. 114.) 

There are good grounds for stating that the Indians were 
cruel to their enemies, but it is surprising to see how little of 
this cruelty there was in primitive days. In most cases the 
enemy was killed in battle or adopted into the tribe; very, 



14 The Book of Woodcraft 

very rarely was he tortured. Captain Clark says of the 
Cheyennes : 

"There is no good evidence that captives have been burned 
at the stake, flayed alive, or any other excruciating torture 
inflicted on persons captured by these fierce, war-loving and 
enterprising barbarians." (" Sign Language," p. io6.) 

But we know now that the whites did use diabolical 
tortures in their deahngs with the Indian, and deUberately 
and persistently misrepresented him in order to justify 
their own atrocities. 

The whites, however, had print to state their case, while 
the Indians had none to tell their story or defend them. 
Furthermore, it is notorious that all massacres of Indians 
by the whites were accomplished by treachery in times of 
peace, while all Indian massacres of whites were in time oj 
war, to resist invasion. At present, I know of no exception 
to this rule.* 

In almost every case, it must be said that the army 
officers and men were personally guiltless. They were 
impressed with the heroism of the Indians, admired them 
for their bravery, were horrified by the wickedness of the 
orders sent them, and did all they could to mitigate the 
atrocious policies of the shameless Indian Bureau. But 
there were instances in which the army officers showed 
themselves the willing tools of the politicians. Among the 
notorious cases was the cold-blooded massacre, in 1864, by 
Col. J. H. Chivington, of several hundred Cheyennes. 
Men, women, and children had surrendered and disarmed, 
and were, indeed, at the time, under military protection. 
The fiendish cruelty and cowardice of that one attack on 
these defenseless beings was enough to more than justify 

•Many supposed massacres by Indians Are now known to have been the work ai 
>hites disguised as Indians. 



The Spartans of the West 15 

everything the Cheyennes have ever done to the race of the 
assassins. (See "Century of Dishonor," pp. 341-358.) 

Still worse was the Baker massacre of Blackfeet, on 
January 23, 1870. 

A border rufi&an, a white man named Clark, had assaulted 
a young Indian, beating him severely, and the Indian, in 
retaliation, had killed Clark and gone off into Canada. 
Without troubling to find the guilty party, or even the band 
he belonged to, Brevet Col. E. M. Baker, major Second 
Cavalry, stationed at Fort Shaw, marched out, under 
orders from Gen. Philip H. Sheridan, to the nearest Indian 
village, on Marias River; as it happened, they were peace- 
able, friendly Indians, under Bear's Head. Without 
warning, the soldiers silently surrounded the sleeping 
village. But the story is better told by Schultz, who 
was on the spot later, and heard it all from those who 
saw: 

"In a low tone Colonel Baker spoke a few words to his men, 
telling them to keep cool, aim to kill, to spare none of the 
enemy; and then he gave the command to fire. A terrible 
scene ensued. On the day previous, many of the men of the 
camp had gone out toward the Sweetgrass Hills on a grand 
buffalo hunt; so, save for Chief Bear's Head and a few old men, 
none were there to return the soldiers' fire. Their first volley 
was aimed low down into the lodges, and many of the sleeping 
people were killed or wounded in their beds. The rest rushed 
out, men, children, women, many of the latter with babes in 
their arms, only to be shot down at the doorways of their lodges. 
Bear's Head, frantically waving a paper which bore testimony 
to his good character and friendliness to the white men, ran 
toward the command on the bluff, shouting to them to cease 
firing, entreating them to save the women and children; down 
he also went with several bullet holes in his body. Of the more 
than four hundred souls in camp at the time, very few escaped. 
And when it was all over, when the last wounded woman and 
child had been put out of misery, the soldiers piled the corpses 



i6 The Book of Woodcraft 

on overturned lodges, firewood and household property, and set 
fire to it all. 

" Several years afterward I was on the ground. Everywhere 
scattered about in the long grass and brush, just where the 
wolves and foxes had left them, gleamed the skulls and bones of 
those who had been so ruthlessly slaughtered. 'How could 
they have done it?' I asked myself, time and time again. 
* What manner of men were these soldiers who deliberately shot 
down defenseless women and innocent children? ' They had not 
even the excuse of being drunk; nor was their commanding 
ofiicer intoxicated; nor were they excited or in any danger 
whatever. Deliberately, coolly, with steady and deadly aim 
they shot them down, killed the wounded, and then tried to 
burn the bodies of their victims. But I will say no more about 
it. Think it over, yourself, and try to find a fit name for men 
who did this. " {" My Life as an Indian, " pp. 41-2.) 



According to G. B. Grinnell, one hundred and seventy-six 
innocent persons were butchered on this day of shame; 
ninety of them women, fifty-five babies, the rest chiefly 
very old or very young men, most of the able-bodied 
hunters being away on a hunt. No punishment of any 
kind was given the monster who did it. 

There is no Indian massacre of whites to compare with 
this shocking barbarity, for at least the Indian always had 
the excuse that war had been declared, and he was acting on the 
defensive. Of a similar character were the massacres at 
Cos Cob, 1641; Conestoga, 1763; Gnadenwhiitten, 1782; 
Coquille River, 1854; Wounded Knee, 1890; and a hundred 
more that could be mentioned. And no punishment was ever 
meted out to the murderers. WTiy? First, because appar- 
ently the Bureau at Washington approved; second, because 
"An Indian has no legal status; he is merely a live and 
particularly troublesome animal in the eye of the law." 
(New York Times, February 21, 1880.) (See "Century of 
Dishonor," p. 367.) Governor Horatio Seymour says: 



The Spartans of the West 17 

"Every human being born upon our continent, or who comes 
here from any quarter of the world, whether savage or civilized, 
can go to our courts for protection — except those who belong 
to the tribes who once owned this country. The cannibal from 
the islands of the Pacific, the worst criminals from Europe, 
Asia or Africa, can appeal to the law and courts for their rights 
of person and property — all save our native Indians, who, 
above all, should be protected from wrong." (Century of 
Dishonor," title-page.) 

And this is the land whose Constitution grants equal 
rights to all ahke. This is the land that waxes virtuously 
indignant when Russia expels or massacres Nihilists, Poles 
or Jews. Have we not enough courage left to face the sim- 
ple truth that every crime of despotism in Russia has been 
more than doubled in atrocity by what has but recently 
been done in America? Nihilists, Jews and Poles were 
certainly breaking the law, usually plotting against the 
Government, when attacked. Russia never used burnings 
at the stake, as did the American unofficial Indian-killers. 
And never did Russia turn batteries of machine-guns on 
masses of men, women and children who were absolutely 
quiet, unarmed, helpless and submissive: who had indeed 
thrown themselves on the mercy of the Government, and 
were under its protection. 

Americans were roused to a fury of indignation by doubt- 
ful newspaper accounts of Spanish misrule in Cuba. But 
the atrocities so credited to Spain pale into insignificance 
beside the unspeakable abominations proved against the 
United States by records of its own officials in its dealings 
with the native American race during the last hundred 
years. 

There are many exceptions to this charge that the 
Indian is cruel to his enemies, enough, almost, to justify a 
complete rebuttal, and among these was none more honor- 



1 8 The Book of Woodcraft 

ably distinguished than Tecumseh, the war chief of the 
Shawnees; perhaps the greatest of all historic Indians. 
Like a new incarnation of Hiawatha, he planned a de- 
fensive federation of the whole red race, and led them in 
war, that he might secure for them lasting peace. All 
great Indians had taught the doctrine "Love your friend." 
But Tecumseh was the first in authority to extend the 
heaven-taught precept, so they should be kind, at least, to 
their enemies ; for he put an end in his nation to all tortur- 
ing of prisoners. 

Above all whose history is fully known, Tecumseh was 
the ideal noble Redman realized; nevertheless, he was not 
alone; Wabasha, Osceola, Kanakuk, and Wovoka must 
be numbered among those whose great hearts reached out 
in kindness even to those who hated them. 

Tecumseh taught, "Love your enemy after he is con- 
quered"; Kanakuk preached non-resistance to evil; 
Wovoka, "Be kind to all men." 

Second: The Indian had no property instincts. He was a 
Socialist in all matters of large property, such as land, its 
fruits, rivers, fish, and game. 

So were the early Christians. "And all that believed 
were together; had all things in common, and sold their 
possessions and goods, and parted them to all men, as every 
man had need." (Acts, ii., 44-45.) 

They considered that every child had a right to a bring- 
ing up, and every old person to a free living from the 
tribe. We know that it worked well, for there was neither 
hunger nor poverty, except when the whole tribe was in 
want. And we know also that there were among them no 
men of shameful, monstrous wealth. 

Third: He was improvident. He is now, just like our 
own drunkards. He was not, until after the Great Degra- 
dation that we effected in him. All the old travelers, 



The Spartans of the West 19 

testify that each Indian village had its fields of corn, beans> 
and pumpkins. The crops were harvested and safely 
carried them over long periods when there was no other 
supply. They did not believe in vast accumulations of 
wealth, because their wise men had said that greed would 
turn their hearts to stone and make them forget the poor. 
Furthermore, since all when strong contributed to the tribe, 
the tribe supported them in childhood, sickness and age. 
They had no poor; they had no famine until the traders 
came with whiskey and committed the crimes for which 
we as a nation have yet to answer. 

Fourth: He was dirty. Many dirty habits are to be 
seen to-day among the Reservation Indians, but it was not 
so in the free days. A part of the old Indian's religion was 
to take a bath every day the year round for the helping of 
his body. Some tribes bathed twice a day. Every village 
had a Turkish bath in continual use. It is only the de- 
graded Indian who has become dirty, and many of the 
whites who oftenest assail him as filthy never take a bath 
from birth to judgment day. 

Fifth: He was lazy. No one who saw the Lidian in his 
ancient form has preferred this charge. He was not fond 
of commercial manufacturing, but the regular work of 
tilling his Httle patch of corn and beans he did not shirk, nor 
the labor of making weapons and boats, nor the frightful 
toil of portaging, hunting and making war. He undertook 
these at all times without a murmur. 

Many men will not allow their horses to bear such bur- 
dens as I saw the Chipewyans bear daily, without a thought 
of hardship, accepting all as a part of their daily lot. 

Sixth: He degraded woman to be a mere beast of burden. 
Some have said so, but the vast bulk of evidence to-day 
goes to show that while the women did the household 
drudgery and lighter tasks, the men did all the work be- 



20 The Book of Woodcraft 

yond their partners' strength. In making clothes, canoes, 
and weapons, as well as in tilling of the fields, men and 
women worked together. The woman had a voice in all 
the great affairs, and a far better legal position than in most 
of the civilized world to-day. 

Seventh: He was treacherous. Oh ! how ill it becomes us 
to mention such a thing! Every authority tells us the 
same — that primitive Redman never broke a treaty ; his 
word was as good as his bond; that the American Govern- 
ment broke every treaty as soon as there was something to 
gain by doing so. Captain J. G. Bourke thus scores the 
continual treachery of the whites: "The occasional treach- 
ery of the aborigines," says he, "has found its best excuse 
in the unvarying Punic faith of the Caucasian invader." 
("On the Border with Crook," p. 114.) 

THE BRIGHT SHDE 

But let us look for evidence of the Indian's character 
among those who saw with their own eyes, and had no ob- 
ject to serve by blackening the fair fame of the bravely 
dying race. 

It would be easy to fill a large volume with startKng and 
trustworthy testimony as to the goodness of the old Indian 
of the best type; I shall give a few pages bearing on the 
Indian Hfe and especially relating to the various character- 
istics for which the Redman has been attacked, selecting the 
testimony preferably from the records of men who knew the 
Indian before his withering contact with the white race. 

RE\rERENCE 

In 1832 George Catlin, the painter, went West and spent 
eight years with the unchanged Indians of the Plains. He 
lived with them and became conversant with their lives. 
He has left one of the fullest and best records we have of the 



The Spartans of the West 21 

Redman. From his books I quote repeatedly. Con- 
cerning the Indian's rehgion, he says: 

"The North American Indian is everywhere, in his native 
state, a highly moral and religious being, endowed by his Maker 
with an intuitive knowledge of some great Author of his being, 
and the Universe, in dread of whose displeasure he con- 
stantly lives, with the apprehension before him of a future 
state, where he expects to be rewarded or punished according 
to the merits he has gained or forfeited in tliis world. 



"Morality and virtue I venture to say the civilized world 
need not undertake to teach them. 



" I never saw any other people of any color who spend so 
much of their lives in humbling themselves before and worship- 
ping the Great Spirit. " (Catlin's "N. A. Indian, " Vol. II., p. 
243-) 

"We have been told of late years that there is no evidence 
that any tribe of Indians ever believed in one overruling power; 
yet, in the early part of the seventeenth century, Jesuits and 
Puritans alike testified that tribes which they had met, believed 
in a god, and it is certain that, at the present time, many tribea 
worship a Supreme Being who is the Ruler of the Universe." 
(Grinnell's "Story of the Indian," 1902, p. 214.) 

"Love and adore the Good Spirit who made us all; who sup- 
plies our hunting-grounds, and keeps us alive." (Teachings 
of Tshut-che-nau, Chief of the Kansas. J. D. Hunter's "Cap- 
tivity Among the American Indians," 1798-1816, p. 21). 

And, again. Hunter says (p. 216): 

"A day seldom passes with an elderly Indian, or others who 
are esteemed wise and good, in which a blessing'is not asked, or 
thanks returned to the Giver of Life, sometimes audibly, but 
more generally in the devotional language of the heart. 



22 The Book of Woodcraft 

" Every Indian of standing has his sacred place, such as a 
tree, rock, fountain, etc., to which he resorts for devotional ex- 
ercise, whenever his feelings prompt to the measure; some- 
times many resort to the same place. " (P. 221). 

A typical prayer is recorded for us by Grinnell. 

A Pawnee, in dire distress and despair, through a strong 
enemy, decided to sacrifice his horse to the unseen powers, 
that they might intercede for him with the Creator, and 
thus prayed beforehand: 

"My Father [who dwells] in all places, it is through you that 
I am living. Perhaps it was through you that this man put me 
in this condition. You are the Ruler. Nothing is impossible 
with you. If you see fit, take this [trouble] away from me. 
Now you, all fish of the rivers, and you, all birds of the air, and 
all animals that move upon the earth, and you, O Sun! I present 
to you this animal. You, birds in the air, and you, animals 
upon the earth, we are related; we are alike in this respect, that 
one Ruler made us all. You see how unhappy I am. If you 
have any power, intercede for me." (Grinnell's "Story of the 
Indian," p. 213.) 

Capt. W. P. Clark, one of our best authorities on the 
Plains Indians, says: "There are no people who pray more 
than Indians." ("Indian Sign Language," 1885, p. 309.) 

And, again, he says: 

" Indians make vocal petitions to the God or Force which they 
wish to assist them, and also make prayer by pointing the long 
stem of the pipe. The Poncas call the sun God or Grandfather, 
and the earth Grandmother, and pray to both when making 
supplications. Running Antelope, a chief of the Uncapapa 
Band of Sioux, said in regard to pointing the pipestem, that the 
mere motion meant, 'To the Great Spirit: give me plenty of 
ponies; plenty of meat; let me live in peace and comfort with 
my wife, and stay long with my children. To the Earth, ray 



The Spartans of the West 23 

Grandmother: let me live long; hold me good and strong. 
When I go to war, give me many ponies and let me count 
many "coups." In peace, let not anger enter my heart.'" 
(P. 309-) 

But the best account of the Indian's belief and mode of 
worship is given to us by Dr. Charles A. Eastman, himself 
a Sioux Indian; he has written of the things that were his 
daily Hfe in youth. He says: 

"When food is taken, the woman murmurs a 'grace' as she 
lowers the kettle, an act so softly and unobtrusively performed 
that one who does not know the custom usually fails to catch 
the whisper: 'Spirit partake!' As her husband receives the 
bowl or plate, he likewise murmurs his invocation to the spirit. 
When he becomes an old man, he loves to make a notable 
effort to prove his gratitude. He cuts off the choicest 
morsel of the meat and casts it into the fire — the purest and 
most ethereal element." ("Soul of the Indian," 1911, 
pp. 47-48.) 

"The first hambeday, or religious retreat, marked an epoch in 
the life of the youth, which may be compared to that of con- 
firmation or conversion in Christian experience. Having first 
prepared himself by means of the purifying vapor bath, and cast 
off, as far as possible, all human or fleshly influences, the young 
man sought out the noblest height, the most commanding sum- 
mit in all the surrounding region. Knowing that God sets no 
value upon material things, he took with him no offerings or 
sacrifices, other than symbolic objects, such as paints and 
tobacco. Wishing to appear before Him in all humility, he 
wore no clothing save his moccasins and breech-clout. At the 
solemn hour of sunrise or sunset, he took up his position, over- 
looking the glories of earth, and facing the 'Great Mystery,' 
and there he remained, naked, erect, silent, and motionless, 
exposed to the elements and forces of His arming, for a night 
and a day to two days and nights, but rarely longer. Sometimes 
he would chant a hymn without words, or offer the ceremonial 
'filled pipe.' In this holy trance or ecstasy the Indian mystic 
found his highest happiness, and the motive power of his exis- 
tence." ("Soul of the Indian," Eastman, pp. 7-8.) 



24 The Book of Woodcraft 

"In the life of the Indian there was only one inevitable duty, 
the duty of prayer — the daily recognition of the Unseen and 
Eternal. His daily devotions were more necessary to him than 
daily food. He wakes at daybreak, puts on his moccasins and 
steps down to the water's edge. Here he throws handfuls of 
clear cold water into his face, or plunges in bodily. After the 
bath, he stands erect before the advancing dawn, facing the sun 
as it dances upon the horizon, and offers his unspoken orison. 
His mate may precede or follow him in his devotions, but never 
accompanies him. Each soul must meet the morning sun, the 
new, sweet earth, and the Great Silence alone! 

"Whenever, in the course of the daily hunt, the red hunter 
comes upon a scene that is strikingly beautiful or sublime — a 
black thunder-cloud, with the rainbow's glowing arch above the 
mountain; a white waterfall in the heart of a green gorge; a vast 
prairie tinged with the blood-red of sunset — he pauses for an 
instant in the attitude of worship. He sees no need for setting 
apart one day in seven as a holy day, since to him all days are 
God's. " (" Soul of the Indian, " Eastman; pp. 45-6.) 

In the light of all tliis evidence, is it to be wondered that 
most of the early historians who lived with the primitive 
Indians of the Plains, were led to believe, from their worship 
of God, their strict moral code, their rigid laws as to foods 
clean and unclean, and their elaborate systeni of bathings 
and purifications, that in these red men of the New World, 
they had indeed found the long-lost tribes of Israel? 

CLEANLINESS 

Nothing will convince some persons but that "Yankees 
have tails," because, in their nursery days, these persons 
always heard it was so. That is exactly the attitude of the 
world on the subject of dirty Indians. 

Alexander Henry II., a fur and whiskey trader, who did 
his share in degrading the early Indians, and did not love 
them, admits of the Mandans, in 1806: 



The Spartans of the West 25 

"Both men and women make it a rule to go down to the river 
and wash every morning and evening," ("Journal," Vol. i., 

P- 325-) 

"These people, like their neighbors, have the custom of wash- 
ing, morning and evening. " ("Journal," Vol. i., p. 348.) 

Catlin, after eight years in their lodges (1832-40) says that 
notwithstanding many exceptions, among the wild Indians the 
"strictest regard to decency and cleanliness and elegance of 
dress is observed, and there are few people, perhaps, who take 
more pains to keep their persons neat and cleanly, than they 
do." (Vol. I., p. 96.) 

" In their bathing and ablutions at all seasons of the year, as a 
part of their religious observances — having separate places for 
men and women to perform these immersions — they resemble 
again [the Jews]." (Vol. II., p. 233.) 

J. W. Schultz, who spent his life among the Blackfeet, 
comments on their wonderful hardiness. During the 
intensest zero weather, he, himself, wore twice as much 
clothing as they did, and yet was suffering severely, while 
"They never froze, nor even shivered from the cold. They 
attributed their indifference to exposure, to the beneficial 
effect of their daily baths, which were always taken, even if 
a hole had to be cut in the ice for the purpose. And they 
forced their children to accompany them, Httle fellows from 
three years of age up, dragging the unwilling ones from ther 
beds, and carrying them under their arms to the icy plunge." 
("My Life as an Indian," pub. 1907; p. 63.) 

This same experienced observer says: 

" I have seen hundreds of white homes — there are numbers 
of them in any city — so exceedingly dirty, their inmates so 
slovenly, that one turns from them in absolute disgust, but I 
have seen nothing like that among the Blackfeet. " (P. 413.) 

Friendly enthusiasts like Catlin may sometimes get only 
part of the facts, but the trained observers of the Smith- 



26 The Bcx)k of Woodcraft 

sonian Institution usually have absolute and complete 
evidence to offer. Here is J. O. Dorsey's paragraph on 
Omaha cleanliness: 

''The Omahas generally bathe (hica) every day in warm 
weather, early in the morning and at night. Some who wish to 
do so, bathe also at noon. Jackson, a member of the Elkgens, 
bathes every day, even in winter. He breaks a hole in the ice 
on the Missouri River, and bathes, or else he rubs snow over 
his body. In winter the Omahas heat water in a kettle and wash 
themselves (kigcija). . . . The Ponkas used to bathe in 
the Missouri every day." (Dorsey, 3th Ann. Dep. Eth.; 
p. 269.) 

Every Indian village in the old days had a Turkish bath, 
as we call it; a "Sweat Lodge," as they say, used as a 
cure for inflammatory rheumatism, etc. Catlin de- 
scribes this in great detail, and says: 

"I allude to their vapor baths, or sudatories, of which 
each village has several, and which seem to be a kind of 
public property — accessible to all, and resorted to by all, male 
and female, old and young, sick and well." (Vol. I., p. 97.) 

The "Sweat Lodge" is usually a low lodge covered with 
blankets or skins. The patient goes in undressed and sits 
by a bucket of water. In a fire outside, a number of stones 
are heated by the attendants. These are rolled in, one or 
more at a time. The patient pours water on them. This 
raises a cloud of steam. The lodge becomes very hot. 
The individual drinks copious draughts of water. After 
a sufficient sweat, he raises the cover and rushes into the 
water, beside which, the lodge is always built. After this, 
he is rubbed down with buckskin, and wrapped in a robe 
to cool off. 

This was used as a bath, as well as a religious purification. 



The Spartans of the West 27 

I have seen scores of them. Clark says they were " common 
to all tribes," (p. 365). Every old-timer knows that they 
were in daily use by the Indians and scoffed at by the white 
settlers who, indeed, were little given to bathing of any kind. 

CHASTITY 

About one hundred years ago the notorious whiskey- 
trader, Alexander Henry, aheady mentioned, went into 
the Missouri region. He was a man of strange character, 
of heroic frame and mind, but unscrupulous and sordid. 
His only interest and business among the Indians was 
beating them out of their furs with potations of cheap 
alcohol. This fearless rufl&an penetrated the far North- 
west, was the first trader to meet certain Western tribes, 
and strange to tell he wrote a full, straightforward and 
shocking account of his wanderings and methods among the 
red folk he despised for not being white. In spite of arro- 
gance and assumed superiority, his narrative contains 
much like the following: 

"The Flatheads on the Buffalo Plains, generally encounter the 
Piegans and fight desperately when attacked. They never 
attempt war themselves, and have the character of a brave and 
virtuous people, not in the least addicted to those vices so 
common among savages who have had long intercourse with 
Europeans. Chastity is particularly esteemed, and no woman 
will barter her favors, even with the whites, upon any mer- 
cenary consideration. She may be easily prevailed upon 
to reside with a white man as his wife, according to the custom 
of the country, but prostitution is out of the question — she will 
listen to no proposals of that nature. Their morals have not 
yet been sufficiently debauched and corrupted by an intercourse 
with people who call themselves Christians, but whose licentious 
and lecherous manners are far worse than those of savages. A 
striking example is to be seen throughout the N. W. country, of 
the depravity and wretchedness of the natives; but as one 



28 The Book of Woodcraft 

advances into the interior parts, vice and debauchery become 
less frequent. Happy those who have the least connection with 
us, for most of the present depravity is easily traced to its origin 
in their intercourse with the whites. That baneful source of 
all evils, spirituous liquor, has not yet been introduced among 
the natives of the Columbia. To the introduction of that 
subtle poison among the savage tribes may be mainly attributed 
their miserable and wretched condition." [So at once he set 
about introducing it. E. T. S.] (A. Henry's Journal, 1811; pp. 
710-11.) 

Jonathan Carver, who traveled among the Sioux from 
1766-9, says: 

"Adultery is esteemed by them a heinous crime, and pun- 
ished with the greatest rigor." (Travels, 1796; p. 245.) 

George Catlin, after his eight years among the wild Man- 
dans of the Missouri (1832), says of them: 

"Their women are beautiful and modest — and amongst the 
respectable families, virtue is as highly cherished and as inap- 
proachable, as in any society whatever." (Vol. I., p. 121.) 

Colonel R. I. Dodge, an Indian fighter and hater, says: 

"The Cheyenne women are retiring and modest, and for 
chastity will compare favorably with women of any other nation 
or people . . . almost models of purity and chastity." 
("Hunting-grounds of the Great West," p. 302.) 

I am well aware that the Crows, the Arapaho and some 
West coast tribes were shockingly immoral in primitive 
times, but these were the exceptions, and in consequence 
they were despised by the dominant tribes of the Plains. 

BRAVERY 

Cld-time travelers and modern Indian fighters agree 
that there was no braver man on earth, alive or in history, 
than the Redman. Courage was the virtue he chiefly 
honored. His whole life and training were with the pur- 



The Spartans of the West 29 

pose of making him calm, fearless and efficient in every 
possible stress or situation. 

Father LaJ&tau said of the Eastern Indians, in 1724: 

"They are high-minded and proud; possess a courage equal to 
every trial; an intrepid valor; the most heroic constancy under 
torments, and an equanimity which neither misfortune nor 
reverses can shake." (Moeurs des Sauv. Amer.) 

" An Indian meets death, when it approaches him in his hut, 
with the same resolution he has often faced him in the field. 
His indifference relative to this important article, which is the 
source of so many apprehensions to almost every other nation, 
is truly admirable. When his fate is pronounced by the phy- 
sician, and it remains no longer uncertain, he harangues those 
about him with the greatest composure." (Carver's "Travels 
Among the Sioux," 1766-9; p. 261.) 

"The greatest insult that can be offered to an Indian, is, to 
doubt his courage." (J. D. Hunter, "Captivity"; 1798-1816; 

p. 30I-) 

" These savages are possessed with many heroic qualities, and 
bear every species of misfortune with a degree of fortitude which 
has not been outdone by any of the ancient heroes either of 
Greece or of Rome." (Carver's "Travels Among the Sioux," 
1766-9; pp. 221-2.) 

None of us are likely to question the Redman's prowess when 
we remember for example that Black Hawk with 40 warriors 
utterly routed 2 70 American riflemen in 1832, Chief Joseph in 1877 
with inferior weapons beat the American soldiers over and over 
again with half their number, and in 1878 Dull Knife with 69 war- 
riors fought and defied 2000 American troops for over four months. 

THRIFT AND PROVIDENCE 

Every Indian village in the old days had its granaries of 
corn, its stores of dried beans, berries, and pumpkin-strips, 
as well as its dried buffalo tongues, pemmican and deer's 
meat. To this day all the Fisher Indians of the north and 
west dry great quantities of fish, as well as berries, for the 
famine months that are surely coming. 

Many of the modern Indians, armed with rifles, have 



30 The Book of Woodcraft 

learned to emulate the white man, and slaughter game for 
the love of slaughter, without reference to the future. Such 
waste was condemned by the old-time Indians, as an abuse 
of the gifts of God, and which would surely bring its punish- 
ment. 

When, in 1684, De la Barre, Governor of Canada, com- 
plained that the Iroquois were encroaching on the country 
of those Indians who were allies of the French, he got a 
stinging reply from Garangula, the Onondaga Chief, and a 
general statement showing that the aborigines had game- 
laws, not written, indeed, but well known, and enforced at 
the spear-point, if need be: "We knock the Twightwies 
[Miamis] and Chictaghicks [Ilhnois] on the head, because 
they had cut down the trees of peace, which were the limits 
of our country. They have hunted beaver on our lands. 
They have acted contrary to the customs of all Indians, for 
they left none of the beavers aHve, they killed both male and 
female." (Sam G. Drake's ''Indian Biog." 1832, p. in.) 

Hunter says of the Kansas Indians: 

"I have never known a solitary instance of their wantonly 
destroying any of those animals [buffalo, elk, and deer], except 
on the hunting-grounds of their enemies, or encouraged to it by 
the prospect of bartering their skins with the traders. " (Hun- 
ter's "Captivity," 1 798-1816, p. 279.) 

"After all, the Wild Indians could not be justly termed im- 
provident, when the manner of life is taken into consideration. 
They let nothing go to waste, and labored incessantly during 
the summer and fall, to lay up provisions for the inclement 
season. Berries of all kinds were industriously gathered and 
dried in the sun. Even the wild cherries were pounded up, 
stones and all, made into small cakes, and dried, for use in soups, 
and for mixing with the pounded jerked meat and fat to form a 
much-prized Indian delicacy." ("Indian Boyhood," East- 
man; pp. 237-8.) 



The Spartans of the West 31 

Their wise men were not blind to the dangers of greed, as 
we know, from many sources, and, in particular, their 
attitude toward money-getting is full of interest: 

"The Indians, except those who live adjoining to the Euro- 
pean colonies, can form to themselves no idea of the value of 
money; they consider it, when they are made acquainted with 
the uses to which it is applied by other nations, as the source of 
innumerable evils. To it they attribute all the mischiefs that 
are prevalent among Europeans, such as treachery, plundering, 
devastations and murder." (Carver's "Travels," p. 158.) 

Could we have a more exact paraphrase of "The love of 
money is the root of all evil?" 

Beware of greed which grows into crime and makes men for- 
get the poor. A man's life should not be for himself, but for his 
people. For them he must be ready to die. 

This is the sum of Indian economic teaching. (See 
Eastman "Soul of Indian," pp. 94 and 99-103.) 

CHEERFULNESS OR THE MERRY INDIAN 

Nothing seems to anger the educated Indian, to-day, 
more than the oft-repeated absurdity that his race was of a 
gloomy, silent nature. Any one that has ever been in an 
Indian village knows what a scene of joy and good cheer it 
normally was. In every such gathering there was always 
at least one recognized fun-maker, who led them all in joke 
and hilarious jest. Their songs, their speeches, their fairy- 
tales are full of fun and dry satire. The reports of the 
Ethnological Bureau sufficiently set forth these facts. 

Eastman, the Sioux, says on this subject: 

"There is scarcely anything so exasperating to me as the idea 
that the natives of this country have no sense of humor and no 



32 The Book of Woodcraft 

faculty for mirth. This phase of their character is well under- 
stood by those whose fortune or misfortune it has been to live 
among them, day in and day out, at their homes. I don't 
believe I ever heard a real hearty laugh away from the Indians' 
fireside. I have often spent an entire evening in laughter with 
them, until I could laugh no more. There are evenings when 
the recognized wit or story-teller of the village gives a free 
entertainment which keeps the rest of the community in a 
convulsive state until he leaves them. However, Indian humor 
consists as much in the gestures and inflections of the voice, as 
in words, and is really imtranslatable. " (" Indian Boyhood, " p, 
267.) 

And, again, Grinnell: 

"The common belief that the Indian is stoical, stolid, and 
sullen, is altogether erroneous. They are really a merry people, 
good-natured and jocular, usually ready to laugh at an amusing 
incident or a joke, with a simple mirth that reminds one of 
children. " (" Ind. To-day, " p. 9.) 

There is, however, an explanation of our widespread mis- 
conception. Many a time in Indian camp or village, I have 
approached some noisy group of children or hilarious ring of 
those more grown. My purpose was wholly sympathetic, but 
my presence acted as a wet-blanket. The children were hushed 
or went away. I saw shy faces, furtive glances, or looks of dis- 
trust. They hate us; they do not want us near. Our presence 
is an evil influence in their joy. Can we wonder? 

OBEDIENCE — REVERENCE FOR THEIR PARENTS AND FOR 

THE AGED 

We cannot, short of the Jews or the Chinese, perhaps, find 
more complete respect for their parents than among the 
Indians. Catlin says: 

"To each other I have found these people kind and honorable, 
and endowed with every feeling of parental, of filial, and con* 



The Spartans of the West 33 

jugal affection, that is met in more enlightened communities. 
I have found them moral and religious; and I am bound to give 
them credit for their zeal, which is often exhibited in their modes 
of worship, however insufficient they may seem to us, or may be 
in the estimation of the Great Spirit." (Vol. II., p. 242.) 

While Hunter, after living with the Kansas Indians for 
nineteen years, says: 

"They are very assiduous and attentive to the wants and 
comforts, particularly, of the aged; and kind to all who require 
their assistance. And an Indian who failed in these respects, 
though he otherwise merited esteem, would be neglected and 
despised. To the credit of their morals, few such are to 
be found, except where debauched by the vices of the white 
people." (Hunter's "Captivity," 1798-1816; p. 251.) 

Among the maxims laid down by the venerable Chief of 
the Kansas, was: 

"Obey and venerate the old people, particularly your par- 
ents." ("Teachings of Tshut-che-nau, Chief of the Kansas;" 
Hunter; p. 21.) 

Father J. F. Lafitau, the Jesuit missionary, was far from 
being predisposed in favor of savage ways or views, yet 
says of the Eastern Indians: 

"Toward each other, they behave with a natural politeness 
and attention, entertaining a high respect for the aged." 
(Moeurs des Sauv. Am., 1724.) 

"The Indians always took care of their aged and helpless. 
It was a rare exception when they did not." (Francis La 
Flesche, Conversation, April 27, 1912.) 

There have been cases of Indians abandoning their very 
aged to die, but it was always done by request of the vie- 



34 The Book of Woodcraft 

tims, under dire stress of hunger or travel, and was dis- 
approved and denounced by all their great teachers. 

During my Northern journey in 1907 I selected for one 
of my guides a fine young Indian named Freesay. At the 
end of our first journey I said to him: "Would you like to 
go with me still farther, to the Far North country, and see 
the things your people have not yet seen? I will give you 
good wages and a big present." 

He replied: "Yes; I would like to go very much, but my 
uncle [his adoptive father] told me not to go beyond Pike's 
Lobstick, and so I cannot go. " And he did not, though his 
uncle was 350 miles away. This was one case out of 
several noted, and many heard of. The Fifth Command- 
ment is a very big, strong law in the wigwam. 

KINDNESS 

At every first meeting of red men and whites, the whites 
were inferior in numbers, and yet were received with the 
utmost kindness, until they treacherously betrayed the men 
who had helped and harbored them. Even Christopher 
Columbus, blind and burnt up with avarice as he was, 
and soul-poisoned with superstition, and contempt for an 
aUen race, yet had the fairness to write home to his royal 
accomplices in crime, the King and Queen of Spain: 

"I swear to your Majesties that there is not a better people 
in the world than these; more affectionate, affable or mild. 
They love their neighbors as themselves, and they always speak 
smilingly. (Catlin, "N. A. Indian," II., p. 246.) 

Jonathan Carver, who lived among the Sioux from 
1766-9, after speaking of their severity in dealing with 
enemies, says: 



The Spartans of the West 35 

"But if they are thus barbarous to those with whom they are 
at war, they are friendly, hospitable, and humane in peace. It 
may with truth be said of them, that they are the worst enemies 
and the best friends of any people in the whole world. " (" Trav- 
els, "p. 157.) 

"We shall likewise see them sociable and humane to those 
whom they consider as their friends, and even to their adopted 
enemies: and ready to partake with them of the last morsel, or 
to risk their lives in their defence. " (P. 269.) 

And, again: 

"No people are more hospitable, kind and free than the 
Indians." (P. 171.) 

"Nothing can exceed the tenderness shown by them to their 
offspring." (P. 247.) 

Catlin, writing of the Plain Indians generally, says: 

"To their friends, there are no people on earth that are more 
kind; and cruelties and punishments (except for capital offences) 
are, amongst themselves, entirely dispensed with." (Vol. II., 
p. 241.) 

Schultz evidently went among the Blackfeet with the 
usual wrong ideas about the Indians, but he soon wrote : 

"I have read, or heard, that an Indian's loss of to-day is for- 
gotten on the morrow. That is certainly not true of the Black- 
feet, nor the Mandans. Often and often I have heard many of 
the Blackfeet mourn for one dead long years since." ("My 
Life as an Indian," p. 154.) 

And again: 

" I have often heard the Blackfeet speak of various white men 
as utterly heartless, because they had left their parents and their 
youthful home to wander and seek adventure in a strange land. 
Thiey could not comprehend how one with right feeling might 



36 The Book of Woodcraft 

absent himself from father and mother, as we do, for months and 
years. 'Hard hearts,' 'stone hearts,' they call us, and with 
some reason." (Schultz, p. 155.) 

"There are few people so generous as the Indians. 

* * * * * * :(c 

In their religious and war ceremonies, at their feasts, festivals, 
and funerals, the widows and orphans, the poor and needy are 
always thought of; not only thought of, ... but their pov- 
erty and necessity are relieved. 

******* 

"I have seen white men reduced to the last 'hard tack, ' with 
only tobacco enough for two smokes, and with no immediate 
prospect of anything better than horse-meat 'straight.' A 
portion of the hard bread was hidden away, and the smokes 
were taken in secret. An Indian, undemoralized by contact 
with the whites, under similar circumstances, would divide 
down to the last morsel." (Clark's "Sign Language," p. 185 
and 186.) 

HOSPITALITY 

This is a point that needs little discussing, eve"n the 
sworn enemy was safe, once he was admitted to an Indian 
lodge "as a guest." 

Carver says of the Sioux, in 1766 ("Travels," p. 172): 

"No people are more hospitable . . . and free than the 
Indians. " 

And, again, I found them ready to share with their friends 
the last morsel of food they possessed. (P. 269.) 

The Jesuits testify of the Iroquois, 1656: 

"Hospitals for the poor would be useless among them, because 
there are no beggars ; those who have are so liberal to those who 
are in want, that everything is enjoyed in common. The whole 
village must be in distress before any individual is left in 
necessity. " ("Century of Dishonor, " p. 379.) 



The Spartans of the West 37 

Catlin, in 1832-40, enthusiastically writes of the Plains 
Indians and their hospitality: 

"I have been welcomed generally in their country, and treated 
to the best that they could give me [for eight years], without 
any charges made for my board. " (Vol. I., p. 9.) 

"No matter how great the scarcity of food might be, so long 
as there was any remaining in the lodge, the visitor received his 
share without grudging." (Grinnell, "Ind. of To-day," p. 9.) 

The same authority writes me: 

"When Lone Chief had gone into the Lodge of the Chief of 
the enemy, and food and water had been given to him, the Chief 
stood up and spoke to his tribespeople saying, ' What can I do? 
They have eaten of my food, I cannot make war on people who 
have been eating with me and have also drunk of my water. ' " 
("Pawnee Hero Stories," pp. 59-60.) 



TREATMENT OF THEIR WOMEN 

"The social condition of the North Americans has been 
greatly misunderstood. The place of woman in the tribe was 
not that of a slave or of a beast of burden. The existence of 
the gentile organization, in most tribes, with descent in the fe- 
male line, forbade any such subjugation of woman. In many 
tribes, women took part in the councils of the chiefs; in some, 
women were even the tribal rulers; while in all, they received a 
fair measure of respect and afifection from those related to 
them." (Grinnell's "Story of the Indian," p. 244.) 

This is Grinnell's summing up of what every student of 
Indians has known for long. Here in addition are the 
statements of other good authorities: 

"I have often heard and read that Indian women received no 
consideration from their husbands, and led a life of exceedingly 
hard and thankless work. That is very wide of the truth, so 



38 The Book of Woodcraft 

far as the natives of the northern plains were concerned. It is 
true, that the women gathered fuel for the lodge — bundles of 
dry willows, or limbs from a fallen cottonwood. They also did 
the cooking, and, besides tanning robes, converted the skins of 
deer, elk, antelope, and mountain sheep, into soft buckskin for 
family use. But never a one of them suffered from overwork; 
when they felt like it, they rested; they realized that there were 
other days coming, and they took their time about anything 
they had to do. Their husbands, never interfered with them, 
any more than they did with him in his task of providing the 
hides and skins and meat, the staff of life. The majority — 
nearly all of them — were naturally industrious, and took pride 
in their work; they joyed in putting away parfleche after par- 
flecheof choice dried meats and pemmican; in tanning soft robes 
and buckskins for home use or sale, in embroidering wonderful 
patterns of beads or colored porcupine quills upon moccasin 
tops, dresses, leggings and saddle trappings. When robes were 
to be traded, they got their share of the proceeds. " (Schultz, 
p. 64.) 

"It has often been asserted that the 'Indian' did no work, 
even leaving the cultivation of the corn and squashes to the 
women. That the women in some of the tribes tended the crops, 
is true, but in others, like the Pueblos, they seldom or never 
touched hoe or spade. The Eastern men were hunting or build- 
ing boats, or were on the war-path, hence it was necessary for the 
women to look after the fields." ("The N. A. of Yesterday," 
by F. S. Dellenbaugh, p. 333.) 

Schultz tells us that the men had to make their own 
clothing. ("My Life as an Indian," p. 180.) 
Prof. J. O. Dorsey writes of Omaha manners: 

"Politeness is shown by men to women. Men used to help 
women and children to alight from horses. When they had to 
ford streams, the men used to assist them, and sometimes they 
carried them across on their backs. " (Dorsey, 270-1 ; 3rd Ann. 
Rep. Ethn.) 

"One of the most erroneous beliefs relating to the status and 
condition of the American Indian woman is, that she was, both 
before and after marriage, the abject slave and drudge of the 



The Spartans of the West 39 

men of her tribe, in general. This view, due largely to inac- 
curate observation and misconception, was correct, perhaps, 
at times, as to a small percentage of the tribes and peoples whose 
social organization was of the most elementary kind politically 
and ceremonially, and especially of such tribes as were non- 
agricultural, " ("Handbook of American Indians, " Bur. Am. 
Ethn., p. 968.) 

"Among the Iroquoian tribes — the Susquehanna, the Hurons, 
and the Iroquois — the penalties for killing a woman of the tribe 
were double those exacted for the killing of a man, because 
in the death of a woman, the Iroquoian lawgivers recognized 
the probable loss of a long line of prospective offspring." 
("Handbook American Indian," p. 971.) 

" In most, if not in all, the highly organized tribes, the woman 
was the sole master of her own body." ("Handbook North 
American Indian," p. 972.) 

"The men are the warriors and hunters, though an old woman 
of rank usually steers the war-canoe." ("Coast Indian"; 
Niblack; 1889; p. 253.) 

"A mother possessed the important authority to forbid her 
sons going on the war-path, and frequently the chiefs took 
advantage of this power of the woman, to avoid a rupture 
with another tribe." ("Handbook North American Indian," 
p. 971.) 

"Roger Williams, with reference to another subject, brings 
this same respect for woman to view; he wrote: 'So did 
never the Lord Jesus bring any unto his most pure worship, for 
he abhors, as all men, yea, the very Indians, an unwilling spouse 
to enter into forced relations. " ("Handbook North America, " 
p. 972.) _ ^ ♦ 

"At a later day, and in the face of circumstances adverse to 
the Indians, Gen. James Clinton, who commanded the New 
York Division in the Sullivan expedition in 1779, against the 
hostile Iroquois, paid his enemies the tribute of a soldier, by 
writing in April, 1779, to Colonel Van Schaick, then leading the 
troops against the Onondaga, the following terse compliment: 
'Bad as the savages are, they never violate the chastity of any 
woman, their prisoners.'" 

"Among the Sioux and the Yuchi, men who made a practice 
of seduction were in grave bodily danger, from the aggrieved 
women and girls, and the resort by the latter to extreme meas- 



40 The Book of Woodcraft 

ures was sanctioned by public opinion, as properly avenging a 
gross violation of woman's inalienable right — the control of 
her own body. The dower or bride-price, when such was given, 
did not confer it, it seems, on the husband, absolute right over 
the life and liberty of the wife: it was rather compensation to 
her kindred and household for the loss of her services." 
("Handbook American Indian," pp. 972,3.) 

"It is the universal testimony, as voiced by Portlock (1787), 
that they [the Coast Indians] treat their wives and children with 
much affection and tenderness. " ("Voyages," p. 290.) "In the 
approach to political and industrial equality of the sexes, and in 
the respect shown for the opinions of their females, these 
Indians furnish another refutation of the old misconception 
concerning the systematic mal-treatment of the women by 
savages. Such a thing is incompatible with the laws of nature. 
Good treatment of the female is essential to the preserv- 
ation of the species, and it will be found that this ill-treatment 
is more apparent than real." (Niblack, "Coast Indian," 1889, 
p. 238-9.) 

That is, the sum of evidence, according to all reliable 
authority, plainly shows that the condition of the women 
among the primitive Indians was much as with white folks. 
They had the steady, dreary work of the household, while 
the men did the intermittent, yet much harder work of por- 
taging, hunting and fighting. But the Indian woman had 
several advantages over her white sister. She owned the 
house and the children. She had absolute control of her 
body. There could be no war without her consent; she 
could and often did become the Head Chief of the Nation. 

Awashonks, the Woman Chief of Seconset, R. I. (1671), 
and Wetamoo, the beautiful woman Sachem of the Massa- 
chusetts Wampanoags (1662) were among the many 
famous women whose lives and positions give the lie to the 
tiresome calumny that the "Indian women were mere 
beasts of burden; they had no rights, nor any voice in their 
public affairs. " 



The Spartans of the West 41 

COURTESY AND POLITE BEHAVIOR 

There has never been any question of the Redman's 
politeness. Every observer remarks it. I have seen 
countless cases of it, myself. The white who usurped his 
domain are immeasurably his inferiors in such matters. 

For fuller testimony, let us note these records by early 
travelers: 

"Toward each other, they behave with natural politeness and 
attention." (Pere Lafitau, 1724.) 

CatUn says of the Mandans: 

"They are handsome, straight, and elegant in their forms — 
not tall, but quick and graceful ; easy and polite in their manners, 
neat in their persons, and beautifully clad. " (Catlin; Vol.1., 
p. 96.) 

"The next and second Chief of the [Mandan] tribe is Ma-to- 
to-pa (The Four Bears). This extraordinary man, though sec- 
ond in office, is undoubtedly the first and most popular man in 
the nation. Free, generous, elegant and gentlemanly in his 
deportment — handsome, brave and valiant; wearing a robe on 
his back with the history of his battles emblazoned on it, which 
would fill a book of themselves, if properly translated. This, 
readers, is the most extraordinary man, perhaps, who lives at 
this day, in the atmosphere of Nature's nobleman." (Catlin; 
Vol. I., p. 92.) 

Omaha politeness: " When persons attend feasts, they extend 
their hand and return thanks to the giver. So, also, when they 
receive presents. 

* * * * * * Hf 

"If a man receives a favor and does not manifest his gratitude, 
they exclaim, 'He does not appreciate the gift; he has no man- 
ners!' 

****** * 

"Mothers teacL their children not to pass in front of people, 
if they can avoid it." (Dorsey, 3d Ann. Rep. Bur. Eth.» 
1881-2, p. 270.) 



42 The Book of Woodcraft 

TEEPEE ETIQUETTE — THE UNWRITTEN LAW OF THE LODGE 

{Gathered chiefly from observations of actual practice, but 
in many cases from formal precept.) 

Be hospitable. 

Always assume that your guest is tired, cold, and hungry. 

Always give your guest the place of honor in the lodge, 
and at the feast, and serve him in reasonable ways. 

Never sit while your guest stands. 

Go hungry rather than stint your guest. 

If your guest refuses certain food, say nothing; he may be 
under vow. 

Protect your guest as one of the family; feed his horse, 
and beat your dogs if they harm his dog. 

Do not trouble your guest with many questions about 
himself; he will tell you what he wishes you to know. 

In another man's lodge follow his customs, not your own. 

Never worry your host with your troubles. 

Always repay calls of courtesy; do not delay. 

Give your host a little present on leaving ; Httle presents 
are little courtesies and never give offence. 

Say "Thank you" for every gift, however small. 

Comphment your host, even if you strain the facts to do 
so. 

Never walk between persons talking. 

Never interrupt persons talking. 

Let not the young speak among those much older, unless 
asked. 

Always give place to your seniors in entering or leaving 
the lodge; or anywhere. 

Never sit while your seniors stand. 

Never force your conversation on any one. 

Speak softly, especially before your elders, or in presence 
of strangers. 



The Spartans of the West 43 

Never come between any one and the fire. 

Do not touch Hve coals with a steel knife or any sharp 
steel. 

Do not stare at strangers; drop your eyes if they stare 
hard at you; and this, above all, for women. 

The women of the lodge are the keepers of the fire, but the 
men should help with the heavier sticks. 

Always give a word or sign of salute when meeting or 
passing a friend, or even a stranger, if in a lonely place. 

Do not talk to your mother-in-law at any time, or let her 
talk to you. 

Be kind. 

Show respect to all men, but grovel to none. 

Let silence be your motto till duty bids you speak. 

Thank the Great Spirit for each meal. 

HONESTY 

Cathn says: 

"As evidence of . . . their honesty and honor, there 
will be found recorded many striking instances in the following 
pages. 

"I have roamed about, from time to time, during seven or 
eight years, visiting and associating with some three or four 
hundred thousands of these people, under an almost infinite 
variety of circumstances; 

ana under all these circumstances of exposure, no Indian ever 
betrayed me, struck me a blow, or stole from me a shilling's 
worth of my property, that I am aware of." (Vol. I., p. 9-10.) 

"Never steal, except it be from an enemy, whom it is just 
that we should injure in every possible way." ("Teachings 
of Tshut-che-nau, Chief of Kansas," Hunter; p. 21.) 

"Among [between] the individuals of some tribes or nations^ 



44 The Book of Woodcraft 

theft is a crime scarcely known." (Hunter's "Captivity 
Among American Indians," 1798-1816; p. 300.) 

"Theft was unknown in an Indian camp." (G. B. 
Grinnell; "Indians of To-day," p. 8.) 

Every traveler among the highly developed tribes of the 
Plains Indians tells a similar story, though, of course, when 
at war, it was another matter. 

Even that rollicking old cut- throat, Alexander Henry II. 
says after fifteen years among the Wild Indians: "I have 
been frequently fired at by them and have had several nar- 
row escapes for my life. But I am happy to say they never 
pillaged me to the value of a needle." ("Journal" 1799- 

1814, p. 452-) 

In my own travels in the Far North, 1907, I found the 
Indians tainted with many white vices, and in many re- 
spects degenerated, but I also found them absolutely 
honest, and I left valuable property hung in trees for 
months, without fear, knowing that no wild Indian would 
touch it. 

There is a story told of Bishop Whipple: 

He was leaving his cabin, with its valuable contents, to be 
gone some months, and sought some way of rendering all 
robber-proof. His Indian guide then said: "Why, Brother, 
leave it open. Have no fear. There is not a white man 
within a hundred miles!" 

On the road to a certain large Indian Ojibway village in 
1904 I lost a considerable roll of bills. My friend, the white 
man in charge, said: "If an Indian finds it, you will have it 
again within an hour; if a white man finds it, you will never 
see it again, for our people are very weak, when it comes to 
property matters. " 

Finally, to cover the far Southwest, I found that the 
experience of most travelers agrees with the following: 



The Spartans of the West 45 

"I lived among the Wild Indians for eight years (187 2-1880); 
I know the Apaches, the Navajos, the Utes, and the Pueblos, and 
I never knew a dishonest Indian." (Robert A. Widenmann, 
West Haverstraw, N. Y.) 



TRUTHFULNESS AND HONOR 

"Falsehood they esteem much more mean and contemptible 
than stealing. The greatest insult that can be offered to an 
Indian, is, to doubt his courage: the next is to doubt his honor 
or truth! 



"Lying, as well as stealing, entails loss of character on habitual 
offenders; and, indeed, an Indian of independent feelings and ele- 
vated character will hold no kind of intercourse with any one 
who has been once clearly convicted." (Hunter's "Captivity 
Among Indians," 1797-1816, p. 301.) 

"This venerable, worn-out warrior [the Kansas Chief, 
Tshut-che-nau, Defender of the People], would often admonish 
us for our faults and exhort us never to tell a lie. " (Hunter, p. 
21.) 

" On all occasions, and at whatever price, the Iroquois spoke 
the truth, without fear and without hesitation." (Morgan's 
"League of the Iroquois," p. 330.) 

"The honor of their tribe, and the welfare of their nation is the 
first and most predominant emotion of their hearts; and from 
hence proceed in a great measure all their virtues and their 
vices. Actuated by this, they brave every danger, endure the 
most exquisite torments, and expire triumphing in their forti- 
tude, not as a personal qualification, but as a national charac- 
teristic. " (Carver's "Travels," p. 271.) 

The Indian's assent to a treaty was always binding. I 
cannot discover a case of breach, excepting when the whites 
first broke it; and this does not mean the irresponsible 
whites, but the American Government. The authorities 
at Washington never hesitated to break each and every 



46 The Book of Woodcraft 

treaty apparently, as soon as some material benefit seemed 
likely to accrue. 

Col. R. I. Dodge says: 

"The three principal causes of wars with the Indians are: 

"First, Non-fuliilment of treaties by the United States 
Government. 

" Second, Frauds by the Indian agents. 

" Third, Encroachments by the whites. " ("Hunting-grounds 
of the Great West," 1878, pp. XLIII-XLIV.) 

Captain John G. Bourke, who served under General 
Crook in 1872, when the Apaches were crushed by over- 
whelming numbers and robbed of their unquestioned heri- 
tage, says: 

"It was an outrageous proceeding, one for which I should 
still blush, had I not long since gotten over blushing for any- 
thing that the United States Government did in Indian mat- 
ters. " ("On the Border with Crook, "p. 217.) 

"The most shameful chapter of American history is that in 
which is recorded the account of our dealings with the Indians. 
The story of our Government's intercourse with this race is an 
unbroken narrative of injustice, fraud and robbery." (Grin- 
nell's "Blackfoot Lodge Tales," 1892, p. IX.) 

In brief, during our chief dealings with the Redman, our 
manners were represented by the border outlaws, the vilest 
criminals the world has known, absolute fiends; and our 
Government by educated scoundrels of shameless, heartless, 
continual greed and treachery. 

The great exception on American soil was that of 
WilUam Penn. He kept his word. He treated the Indians 
fairly; they never wronged him to the extent of a penny, or 
harmed him or his, or caused a day's anxiety; but con- 
tinued his loyal and trusty defenders." (See Jackson's 
" Century of Dishonor. ") 



The Spartans of the West 47 

• 

How is it that Canada has never had an Indian war or an 
Indian massacre? Because the Government honorably 
kept all its treaties, and the Indians themselves were 
honorable, by tradition; they never yet broke a treaty. In 
northwestern Canada, there were two slight outbreaks of 
half-breeds (187 1 and 1885), but these were misunder- 
standings, easily settled. There was little fighting, no 
massacres, and no heritage of hate in their track. 

What wonder that all who could, among the Indian tribes, 
moved over the "Medicine Line," and dwell in Canada 
to-day! 

TEMPERANCE AND SOBRIETY 

When the white traders struck into the West with their 
shameful cargoes of alcohol to tempt the simple savages, it 
was the beginning of the Great Degradation for which we 
must answer. 

The leading Indians soon saw what the drink habit 
meant, and strove in vain to stem the rising current of 
madness that surely would sweep them to ruin. 

About 1795, Tshut-che-nau, chief of the Kansas, did his 
best to save the youth of his people from the growing vice 
of the day. 

"'Drink not the poisonous strong- water of the white 
people;' he said, 'it is sent by the Bad Spirit to destroy the 
Indians.' He preached, but preached in vain." (J. D. 
Hunter, p. 21.) 

Pere Lafitau says, in 1724: 

"They never permit themselves to indulge in passion, 
but always, from a sense of honor and greatness of soul, 
appear masters of themselves." (P. 378, " Century of Dis- 
honor.") 



48 The Book of Woodcraft 

In 1766, living among the Sioux, Carver writes: 

"We shall J5nd them temperate, both in their diet and pota- 
tions (it must be remembered that I speak of those tribes who 
have little communication with Europeans) that they withstand 
with unexampled patience, the attacks of hunger, or the incle- 
mency of the seasons, and esteem the gratification of their 
appetites but as a secondary consideration. ' (" Travels," p. 269.) 

Concerning the temperance of the Wild Indian, Catlin 
writes, in 1832: 

"Every kind of excess is studiously avoided. 

* * 41 :(: :ic :|E :): 

"Amongst the wild Indians in this country, there are no beg- 
gars — no drunkards — and every man, from a beautiful 
natural precept, studies to keep his body and mind in such a 
healthy shape and condition as will, at all times, enable him to 
use his weapons in self-defense, or struggle for the prize in their 
manly games." (Catlin, Vol. I., p. 123.) 

And, how was it he fell from these high ideals? Alas! 
we know too well. G. B. Grinnell has sent me a record 
which, in one form or another, might have been made about 
every western tribe: 

"The Reverend Moses Merrill, a missionary among the Oto 
Indians from 1832 to the beginning of 1840, kept a diary from 
which the following account is taken: 

" 'April 14, 1837. Two men from a trading expedition in the 
Indian country called on me to-day. They state that one half 
of the furs purchased in the Indian country are obtained in 
exchange for whiskey. They also stated that the Shiennes, a 
tribe of Indians on the Platte River, were wholly averse to drink- 
ing whiskey, but, five years ago — now (through the influence 
of a trader. Captain Gant, who, by sweetening the whiskey, 
induced them to drink the intoxicating draught), they are a . 
tribe of drunkards.'" ("Trans, and Repts. Nebraska State 
Historical Society, IV.," p. 181.) 



The Spartans of the West 49 

After describing the rigid dieting that formed part of the 
Indian's training, Eastman adds: 

" In the old days, no young man was allowed to use tobacco 
in any form until he had become an acknowledged warrior and 
had achieved a record." ("Ind. Boy.," p. 50.) 

PHYSIQUE 

We need but httle evidence on this head. All historians, 
hostile or friendly, admit the Indian to have been the finest 
type of physical manhood the world has ever known. 
None but the best, the picked, chosen and trained of the 
whites, had any chance with them. Had they not been 
crushed by overwhelming numbers, the Indians would 
own the continent to-day. 

Grinnell says ("Indians of To-day," p. 7.): 

"The struggle for existence weeded out the weak and the 
sickly, the slow and the stupid, and created a race physically 
perfect, and mentally fitted to cope with the conditions which 
they were forced to meet, so long as they were left to them- 
selves. " 

Speaking of the Iroquois in primitive condition, Brinton 
says that physically "they were unsurpassed by any other 
on the continent, and I may even say by any other people 
in the world." ("The American Race," p. 82.) 

The most famous runner of ancient Greece was Phi- 
dippides, whose record run was 152 miles in 2 days. 
Among our Indians such a feat would have been consid- 
ered very second rate. In 1882, at Fort EUice, I saw a 
young Cree who, on foot, had just brought in despatches 
from Fort Qu' Appelle (125 miles away) in twenty-five hours. 
It created almost no comment. I heard little from the trad- 
ers but cool remarks like, "A good boy "; "pretty good run." 
It was obviously a very usual exploit, among Indians. 



50 The Book of Woodcraft 

" The Tarahumare mail carrier from Chihuahua toBatopilas, 
Mexico, runs regularly more than 500 miles a week; a Hopi 
messenger has been known to run 120 miles in 15 hours." 
("Handbook American Indians," Part II., p. 802.) 

The Arizona Indians are known to run down deer by 
sheer endurance, and every student of southwestern his- 
tory will remember that Coronado's mounted men were 
unable to overtake the natives, when in the hill country, 
such was their speed and activity on foot. 

We know that white men's ways, vices, and diseases have 
robbed them of much of their former physique, and yet, accord- 
ing to Dr. Daniel G. Brinton ("The American Race," 1891.) 

"The five Companies (500 men) recruited from the Iroquois of 
New York and Canada, during the Civil War, stood first on the 
list among all the recruits of our army, for height, vigor, and 
corporeal symmetry. " (Grinnell's " Indian of To-day, " p. 56.) 

The wonderful work of the Carlisle Indian School foot- 
ball team is a familiar example of what is meant by Indian 
physique, even at this late date, when the different Ufe has 
done so much to bring them low. 

(While this was in press the all round athletic champion- 
ship of the world was won at the Olympic games (191 2) 
by James Thorpe, a Carhsle Indian. He was at best the 
pick of 300,000, while against him were white men, the 
pick of 300,000,000.) 

The whole case, with its spiritual motive, is thus summed 
up by Eastman in his inspiring account of the religion of his 
people, the Dakotas: 

"The moment that man conceived of a perfect body, supple, 
symmetrical, graceful, and enduring — in that moment he had 
laid the foundation of a moral life. No man can hope to main- 
tain such a temple of the spirit beyond the period of adolescence. 



The Spartans of the West 51 

unless he is able to curb his indulgence in the pleasures of the 
senses. Upon this truth the Indian built a rigid system of 
physical training, a social and moral code that was the law of his 
life. 

"There was aroused in him as a child a high ideal of manly 
strength and beauty, the attainment of which must depend upon 
strict temperance in eating and in the sexual relation, together 
with severe and persistent exercise. He desired to be a worthy 
link in the generations, and that he might not destroy by his 
weakness that vigor and purity of blood which had been achieved 
at the cost of so much self-denial by a long line of ancestors. 

" He was required to fast from time to time for short periods 
and to work off his superfluous energy by means of hard running, 
swimming and the vapor bath. The bodily fatigue thus induced, 
especially when coupled with a reduced diet, is a reliable cure 
for undue sexual desires." (Eastman's "Soul of the Indian,'* 
pp. 90-92.) 

In their wonderful physique, the result of their life-long, 
age-long training, in their courage, their fortitude, their 
skill with weapons, their devoted patriotism, they realize 
more than any other modern race has done the ideal of 
the Spartan Greek, with this advantage; that, in his moral 
code, the Indian was far superior. 

IN GENERAL 

"I admit, " says Father Lallemant, of the Hurons, "that their 
habits and customs are barbarous in a thousand ways, but, after 
all, in matters which they consider as wrong, and which their 
public condemns, we observe among them less criminality than 
in France, although here the only punishment of a crime is the 
shame of having committed it." ("Century of Dishonor, " p. 
378.) 

Even stronger is the summary of the Jesuit Father, 
J. F. Lafitau: 

"They are high-minded and proud; possess a courage equal to 
every trial, an intrepid valor, the most heroic constancy under 



52 The Book of Woodcraft 

torments, and an equanimity which neither misfortunes nor 
reverses can shake. Toward each other they behave with a 
natural politeness and attention, entertaining a high respect 
for the aged, and a consideration for their equals which appears 
scarcely reconciliable with that freedom and independence of 
which they are so jealous." (Moeurs des Sauv. Amer., 1724, 
quoted in "Century of Dishonor" p. 378.) 

Long afterward the judicial Morgan in his League of the 
Iroquois, says, (p. 55) : 

"In legislation, in eloquence, in fortitude, and in military 
sagacity, they had no equals. 

"Crimes and offences were so infrequent, under their social 
system, that the Iroquois can scarcely be said to have had a 
criminal code." 

Captain John H. Bourke, who spent most of his active 
life as an Indian fighter, and who, by training, was an 
Indian hater, was at last, even in the horror of an Indian- 
crushing campaign, compelled to admit: 

"The American Indian, born free as the eagle, would not 
tolerate restraint, would not brook injustice; therefore, the 
restraint imposed must be manifestly for his benefit, and the 
government to which he was subjected must be eminently one 
of kindness, mercy and absolute justice, without necessarily 
degenerating into weakness. The American Indian despises a 
liar. The American Indian is the most generous of mortals; at 
all his dances and feasts, the widow and the orphan are the first 
to be remembered." (Bourke's "On the Border with Crook," 
p. 226.) 

" Bad as the Indians often are, " says this same frontier veteran, 
"I have never yet seen one so demoralized that he was not an 
example in honor and nobility to the wretches who enrich them- 
selves by plundering him of the little our Government appor- 
tions for him." (Bourke's "On the Border with Crook," p. 
445-) 



The Spartans cf the West 53 

Catlin's summary of the race is thus: 

" The North American Indian, in his native state, is an honest, 
hospitable, faithful, brave; warlike, cruel, revengeful, relent- 
less — yet honorable — contemplative and religious being." 
(Vol. L, p. 8.) 

Omitting here what he gives elsewhere, that the Redman 
is clean, virtuous, of splendid physique, a master of wood- 
craft, and that to many of his best representatives, the 
above evil adjectives do not apply. 

Bishop Whipple thus sums up the wild Indian, after 
intimate knowledge, during a lifetime of associations, 
("Century of Dishonor," Jackson; p. VII.): 

"The North American Indian is the noblest type of a heathen 
man on the earth. He recognizes a Great Spirit; he believes in 
immortality; he has a quick intellect; he is a clear thinker; he is 
brave and fearless, and, until betrayed, he is true to his plighted 
faith; he has a passionate love for his children, and counts it a 
joy to die for his people. Our most terrible wars have been with 
the noblest types of the Indians and with men who had been the 
white man's friends. Nicolet said the Sioux were the finest type 
of wild men he had ever seen. " 

Why, then, has he so long been caluminated? "Be- 
cause," explains the Bishop, "Ahab never speaks kindly of 
Naboth whom he has robbed of his vineyard. It soothes 
conscience to cast mud on the character of the one whom 
we have wronged. " 

When General Crook, after he had crushed, and enabled 
the nation to plunder the Apaches, was ordered to the 
northward on a similar expedition against the Sioux, a 
friend said to him, "It is hard to go on such a campaign," 
the General replied, "Yes, it is hard; but, sir, the hardest 
thing is to go and fight those whom you know are in the 
right. " (" Century of Dishonor, " p. VI.) 



54 The Book of Woodcraft 

Finally, let me reproduce in full the account by Bonne- 
ville, from which I have already selected portions: 

In 1834, he visited the Nez Perces and Flatheads, and 
thus sums up these wholly primitive Indians, for they were 
as yet uncorrupted by the whiskey-trader or those who 
preached the love of money. 

"They were friendly in their dispositions, honest to the most 
scrupulous degree in their intercourse with the white man," 
(P. 200.) " Simply to call these people religioiis would convey but 
a faint idea of the deep hue of piety and devotion which pervades 
their whole conduct. Their honesty is immaculate, and their 
purity of purpose and their observance of the rites of their 
religion are most uniform and remarkable. They are certainly 
more like a nation of saints than a horde of savages. " (" Cap- 
tain Bonneville's Narrative;" by Washington Irving, p. 171, 
1837-) 

It would, I know, be quite easy to collect incidents — 
true ones — that would seem to contradict each of these 
claims for the Redman, especially if we look among the 
degraded Indians of the Reservations. But I do not con- 
sider them disproofs any more than I consider our rehgion 
disproved by the countless horrors and wickedness recorded 
every day as our daily history, in every newspaper in every 
corner of the land. The fact remains that this was the ideal 
of the Indian, and many times that ideal was exempUfied 
in their great men, and at all times the influence of their 
laws was strong. 

One might select a hundred of these great Indians who 
led their people, as Plato led the Greeks or as Tolstoi led the 
Russians, and learn from each and all that dignity, strength, 
courtesy, courage, kindness, and reverence were indeed the 
ideals of the teepee folk, and that their ideal was realized 
more or less in all their history — that the noble Redman 
did indeed exist. 



The Spartans of the West 55 

The earliest of the northern Indians to win immortal 
fame was the great Mohawk, Hiawatha. Although the 
Longfellow version of his life is not sound as history, we 
know that there was such a man; he was a great hero; he 
stood for peace, brotherhood, and agriculture; and not only 
united the Five Nations in a Peace League, but made 
provision for the complete extension of that League to the 
whole of America. 

Pontiac, the Napoleon of his people; Tecumseh, the 
chevalier Bayard, who was great as warrior and statesman, 
as well as when he proclaimed the broad truths of humanity; 
Dull Knife, the Leonidas of the Cheyennes; Chief Joseph, 
the Xenophon of the Nez Perces; Wabasha, Little Wolf, 
Pita-Lesharu, Washakie, and a hundred others might be 
named to demonstrate the Redman's progress toward his 
ideals. 

SUMMARY 

Who that reads this record can help saying: "If these 
things be true, then, judging by its fruits, the Indian way 
must be better than ours. Wherein can we claim the 
better thought or results?" 

To answer is not easy. My first purpose was to clear the 
memory of the Redman. To compare his way with ours, 
we must set our best men against his, for there is little 
difference in our doctrine. 

One, great difference in our ways is that, like the early 
Christians, the Indian was a Socialist. The tribe owned the 
ground, the rivers and the game; only personal property 
was owned by the individual, and even that, it was consid- 
ered a shame to greatly increase. For they held that greed 
grew into crime, and much property made men forget the 
poor. 

Our answer to this is that, without great property, that is 



56 The Book of Woodcraft 

power in the hands of one man, most of the great business 
enterprises of the world could not have been; especially 
enterprises that required the prompt action impossible in a 
national commission. All great steps in national progress 
have been through some one man, to whom the Ught came, 
and to whom our system gave the power to realize his idea. 

The Indian's answer is, that all good things would have 
been established by the nation as it needed them ; anything 
coming sooner comes too soon. The price of a very rich 
man is many poor ones, and peace of mind is worth more 
than railways and skyscrapers. 

In the Indian Ufe there was no great wealth, so also pov- 
erty and starvation were unknown, excepting under the 
blight of national disaster, against which no system can 
insure. Without a thought of shame or mendicancy, the 
young, helpless and aged all were cared for by the nation 
that, in the days of their strength, they were taught and 
eager to serve. 

And how did it work out? Thus: Avarice, said to be 
the root of all evil, and the dominant characteristic of our 
race, was unknown among Indians, indeed it was made 
impossible by the system they had developed. 

These facts long known to the few are slowly reaching all 
our people at large, in spite of shameless writers of history, 
that have done their best to discredit the Indian, and to 
that end have falsified every page and picture that promised 
to gain for him a measure of sympathy. 

Here are the simple facts of the long struggle between the 
two races: 

There never yet was a massacre of Indians by whites — 
and they were many — except in time of peace and made 
possible by treachery. 

There never yet was an Indian massacre of whites except 
in times of declared war to resist invasion. 



The Spartans of the West 57 

There never yet was an Indian war but was begun by the 
whites violating their solemn treaties, encroaching on the 
Indians' lands, steaHng the Indians' property or murdering 
their people. 

There never yet was a successful campaign of whites 
against Indians except when the whites had other Indians 
to scout, lead and guide them; otherwise the Redmen were 
too clever for the whites. 

There never yet was a successful war of whites against 
Indians except when the whites were in overwhelming 
numbers,with superior equipments and unlimited resources. 

There cannot be the slightest doubt that the Indian was 
crushed only by force of superior numbers. And had the 
tribes been united even, they might possibly have owned 
America to-day. 

Finally, a famous Indian fighter of the most desperate 
period thus summarizes the situation and the character of 
the dispossessed: 

"History can show no parallel to the heroism and fortitude of 
the American Indians in the two hundred years' fight during 
which they contested inch by inch the possession of their coun- 
try against a foe infinitely better equipped, with inexhaustible 
resources, and in overwhelming numbers. Had they even been 
equal in numbers, history might have had a very different story 
to tell. " (Gen. Nelson A. Miles, U. S. A., Letter, February 16, 
1912.) 

I never yet knew a man who studied the Indians or lived 
among them, without becoming their warm friend and 
ardent admirer. Professor C. A. Nichols, of the South- 
western University, a deep student of Indian life, said to 
me, sadly, one day last autumn: "I am afraid we have 
stamped out a system that was producing men who, taken 
all around, were better than ourselves. " 



58 The Book of Woodcraft 

Our soldiers, above all others, have been trained to hate 
the Redmen, and yet the evidence of those that have lived 
years with this primitive people is, to the same effect as that 
of missionaries and travelers, namely, that the high-class 
Indian was brave; he was obedient to authority. He was 
kind, clean and reverent. He was provident, unsordid, 
hospitable, dignified, courteous, truthful, and honest. He 
was the soul of honor. He lived a Hfe of temperance and 
physical culture that he might perfect his body, and so he 
achieved a splendid physique. He was a wonderful hunter, 
a master of woodcraft, and a model for outdoor life in this 
country. He was heroic and picturesque all the time. 
He knew nothing of the forgiveness of sin, but he 
remembered his Creator all the days of his life, and 
was in truth one of the finest types of men the world has 
ever known. 

We set out to discover the noble Redman. Have we 
entirely failed? 

Surely, it is our duty, at least, to do justice to his memory, 
and that justice shall not fail of reward. For this lost and 
dying type can help us in many ways that we need, even as 
he did help us in the past. Have we forgotten that in 
everything the white pioneer learned of woodcraft, the 
Indian was the teacher? And when at length came on the 
white man's fight for freedom, it was the training he got 
from the Redman that gave him the victory. So again, to 
fight a different enemy to-day, he can help us. And in our 
search for the ideal outdoor life, we cannot do better than 
take this Indian, with his reverence and his carefully cul- 
tured physique, as a model for the making of men, and as a 
pattern for our youth who would achieve high manhood, 
in the Spartan sense, with the added graces of courtesy, 
honor and truth. 



The Spartans of the West 59 

The world knows no higher ideal than the Man of Gali- 
lee; nevertheless, oftentimes, it is helpful to the Plainsmen 
climbing Mount Shasta, if we lead them, first, to Sheep- 
Rock Shoulder, before attempting the Dome that looks 
down upon the clouds. 



STANDARD INDIAN BOOKS 

^'Drake's Indian Chiefs, the lives of more than 200 Indian 
Chiefs, by Samuel G. Drake. Boston. 1832. 

"Adventures of Captain Bonneville," by Washington 
Irving, in 3 vols. London, 1837. An amazing record 
of the truly noble Redmen. 

"North American Indians," by George Catlin, in 2 vols. 
London. 1866. A famous book; with many illustrations. 

"Life Amongst the Modocs," by Joaquin Miller, Bentley 
& Son. London. 1873. ^ classic. The story of a 
white boy's life among the uncontaminated Redmen. 

"Indian Sign Language," by W. P. Clark. Philadelphia, 
Pa. 1884. A valuable cyclopedia of Indian life, as well 
as the best existing treatise on Sign Language. 

"A Century of Dishonor," by Helen Jackson (H. H.). 
Boston. 1885. Treats of the shameful methods of the 
U. S. in dealing with Indians, an unbroken record of 
one hundred years of treachery, murder and infamy. 

"On the Border With Crook," by John G. Bourke, U. S. A. 
Scribner's Sons. New York. 1891. A soldier account 
of the Apache War. Setting out an Indian hater, he 
learned the truth and returned to make a terrible ar- 
raignment of the U. S. Governm.ent. 

"Indian Boyhood," by Charles A. Eastman, M. D. Mc- 



6o The Book of Woodcraft 

Clure, Phillips & Co. New York. 1902. A Sioux 
Indian's story of his own boyhood. 

"The Story of the Indian," by G. B. Grinnell. Appleton 
& Co. New York. 1902. 

"Two Wilderness Voyagers," by F. W. Calkins. Fleming 
H. Revell Co. New York. 1902. The Indian Babes 
in the Woods. 

"Lives of Famous Indian Chiefs," by W. B. Wood. Ameri- 
can Indian Hist. Pub. Co. Aurora, 111. 1906. 

"My Life as an Indian," by J. W. Schultz. Doubleday, 
Page & Co. New York. 1907. A white man's life 
among the Blackfeet in the old days. 

"Handbook of American Indians," by F. W. Hodge and 
associates. Pub. in 2 large vols, by Smithsonian Insti- 
tution, Washington, D. C. 1907. This is a concise 
and valuable encyclopedia of Indian names and matters. 

"Famous Indian Chiefs I have Known," by Gen. O. O. 
Howard. U. S. A. The Century Co. New York. 
1908. Treats of Osceola, Washakie, etc. from the 
white man's standpoint. 

"The Soul of the Indian," by Charles A. Eastman. 
Houghton, Mifiiin Co. Boston & New York. 1911. A 
Sioux Indian's account of his people's religion. 

■'Legends of Vancouver," by Pauline Johnson. McClel- 
land, Goodchild 8: Stewart, Ltd., Toronto, Ont. 1912. 
A valuable collection of charming legends gathered on the 
West coast. 

"Sign Talk," by Ernest Thompson Seton. Doubleday, 
Page & Co., Garden City, New York. 19 18. A uni- 
versal signal code without apparatus, for use in army, 
navy, camping, hunting, and daily life. 

Besides these the Annual Reports of the Bureau of Ethnol- 
ogy (1878 to date, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, 
D. C), are full of valuable information about Indians 



IIL Woodland Songs^ Dances, 
and Ceremonies 

THE OMAHA TRIBAL PRAYER. 

Harmonized by Prof. J. C. FillmobB. 

Slow. Grave. Solemn. 
^P F""^ /^ /^ <^ ^00i ^. /?\ /:\ 



=§ 



^ 



sr 



■:^ 



=^= 



-Z5^ 



-^ 



-27- 



Wa-kon-da dhe - dhu Wa-pa dhin a - ton - he. 



m 



-(§- 



"^ ^ 



i 



-<g- 



-&- 



^ 



p=^ 



C<?^ P^^. 



* 



s 



<^ /> 



i 



t=r^ 



s^ 4 ^j 



■^ 



•tf>- ^ 



■(S>- 



1^ ."gr 

Wa-kon-da dhe - dhu Wa-pa-dhin a - ton -he. 
^S2 % a ^ — pj ^ 



€: 



i 



f 



-t5>- 



/'tfi/. 



(By permission from Alice C. Fletcher's " Indian Story 
and Song.") 
Translation : 

Father a needy one stands before thee; 
I that sing am he. 

6i 



62 The Book of Woodcraft 

SITTING BULL'S WAR SONG— Indian Words 

(By permission from E. S. Curtis' North American Indians, Vol. Ill, p. 149) 
Moderate. ,_^^ 



i 



S^£^E^ 



-M 0-- 



^ \ m m — m—m—m- 



m. 



t=:U=X 



Ma-ka Si - to - mi - ni i Chaz he - may - a. 



I 



-I 1^ h jg 



^^j=^ 



W 



^q — ^— i-H — r ^-^ 



to- pe 



m 



lo Be • li he - i - chey awaon - jel - o. 

"^ ^ r^ i — «« — !* — T"^ 






35ZJ ^_f>_J I * 



Ma - ka. . . Si - to. . mi - ni, Ma - ka. . Si - to - mi - 




Be - li - chey a 



wa - on ye - lo 



m 



Eff3i 



Jj^i — PL 



^ m ^ 



^^ 



tg::zES=V=f 



Bel - chei. . chey.. a - po, B61.. ch - e - 1 



rd::^' 



EE6 — r — r — ^-r— r^ t-^ * * |g 

-1 8 ^ I ^ — ^ 1 I ^ \ ) ji 



f 



chey 
—J — - 



po. 



Ma 



ka,, 



Ma - ka 



-> N F 



- »| * - 



-W=^ - - « 1 X ^ 



Si 



to - mi 



SITTING BULL'S WAR SONG— English Words 

Moderato. 



ii 



=ti 



J U- 



^^ 



Earth wide is my fame, They are shouting my name;.. 



Sing hoi the ea - gle souL . . . Who follows Silting Bull. 



Songs, Dances, and Ceremonies 



THE GHOST DANCE SONG 



63 



(From Prof. Jas. Mooney's "The Ghost Dance Religion," 
14th. Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn. p. 977.) 



ANI'QU NE'CfiAWU'NAOT' 



Moderato. 



5f:4L 



:^: 



i=t 



:t^- 



-*— « 



Ei 



^ 



^m 



A • iii'-qu ne'-vba • wu' • ua • ni' a • ni' -qu ne'-cba - wu' - na • ni'; 



:C^ 



-r— - 



& 






* ' * — *— ■ 



4-^i^ 



wa' • wa bi'-qa na' ■ ka • ye' - na, a • wa'-wa bi'-q& - na' • ka - ye' 



*t 



w^m 



pig^^^i 



*.ya 



1)1 



i • ya • hu'h mi' • M 



Ani'qu ne'chawu'nani', 
Aui'qu ne'chaTvn'nani'; 
Awa'wa biquna'kaye'na, 
Awa'wa biqtlna'kaye'na; 
lyahu'h ni'bithi'ti, 
lyahu'h ni'bithi'ti. 

Translation 

Father, have pity on me. 

Father, have pity on me; 

I am crying for thirst, 

I am crying for thirst; 

All is gone — I have nothing to eat, 

All is gone — I have nothing to eat. 

This is the most pathetic of the Ghost-datice songs. It is sung to 
a plaintive tune, sometimes with tears rolliug down the cheeks of the 
dancers as the words would bring up thoughts of their present miser- 
able and dependent condition. It may be considered the ludiao para- 
phrase of the Lord's prayer. 

Also translated: 

Father have pity on me, 

My soul is ever hungry for thee; 

I am weeping, 

There is nothing here to satisfy me. 



64 The Book of Woodcraft 

THE PEACE PIPE CEREMONY 

The Medicine Man, standing in front of the ready- 
laid fire, opens Council thus: "Meetah Kola nayhoon-po 
omnicheeyay nee-chopi — Hear me, my friends, we are about 
to hold a council. 

"Now light we the Council Fire after the manner of the 
Forest children, not in the way of the white man, but — 
even as Wakonda himself doth light his fire — by the rub- 
bing together of two trees in the storm-wind, so cometh 
forth the sacred fire from the wood of the forest." 

(He uses the drill; the smoke comes, the flame bursts 
forth.) "Now know we that Wakonda, whose dwelling is 
above the Thunder-bird, whose messenger is the Thunder- 
bird, hath been pleased to smile on his children, hath sent 
down the sacred fire. By this we know he will be present 
at our Council, that his wisdom will be with us. 

"This is a Council of Peace, so fight we first the Pipe of 
Peace." 

(Kneeling at the fire he lights the pipe. As soon as it is 
going, he hfts the pipe grasped in both hands, with the stem 
toward the sky, saying) : 

To Wakonda; that his wisdom be with us. Eay-oon- 
kee-ya. Noon-way. 

(All answer): Noon-way. (Amen, or this is our 
prayer.) 

To Maka Ina, Mother Earth, that she send us food, Eay- 
oon-kee-ya. Noon-way. 

(All answer) : Noon-way. 

To Weeyo-peata, the Sunset Wind, that he come not 
in his strength upon us. Hay-oon-kee-oon-ee-ya-snee. Noon- 
way. (Then blows smoke and holds the stem to the 
west.) 

(All answer) : Noon-way. 



Songs, Dances, and Ceremonies 65 

To Wazi-yata, the Winter Wind, that he harm us not 
with his cold, Hay-oon-kee-oon-ee-ya-snee. Noon-way. (Pipe 
as before.) 

(All answer) : Noon-way. 

To Weeyo-hinyan-pata, the Sunrise Wind, that he 
trouble us not with his rain. Hay-oon-kee oon-ee-ya- 
snee. Noon-way. (Pipe as before.) 

(All answer): Noon-way. 

To Okaga, the Hot W^ind, that he strike us not with his 
fierce heat, Hay-oon-kee-oon-ee-ya-snee. Noon-way. (Pipe 
as before.) 

(All answer) : Noon-way. 

Then the Medicine Man stands holding the pipe in one 
hand and proclaims aloud: "Now with the Blessing of 
Wakonda and respite from the Tah-tee-yay To-pa, we 
may deal with business of gravest import, doubting nothing, 
for wisdom from above is with us." 



THE SCALP DANCE 

It the assemblage is mixed, each brave selects a squaw 
for this, ten to thirty couples taking part; otherwise, twenty 
braves can do it. They come out of the woods in proces- 
sion, form a circle about the fire; standing with both hands 
raised they look upward and sing the Omaha Tribal 
Prayer (see page 61). They sit in a large circle, 
alternately brave and squaw. Each squaw has a club by 
her side. 

Squaws begin to sing the Coona song (Cahuilla Bird 
Dance Song) (next page) or Omaha Love Song (p. 50, 
Fletcher), guided by Medicine Man and drum. 



66 



The Book of Woodcraft 



BIRD DANCE SONG. 



CAHUILLA TRIBE. 

eBAS.F.LUMMtB. 

Moderately, with motion. J = 126. 



Harmonized bf 
ARTHUR FARWELL. 






Coo - na loo - na lo co la-u,* loo ^ na loo — ^ im lo co IS-u, 
lou and treaml<M»,/lmteliie aitd in obvious imitation o/loic weird bird tones. 




na loo • Dfl to CO* la-u wi^ dem-a- i-qua to-qua-i - ca lo co la-n. 




Coo - na kio - na lo co la-a wi deta-a- i-qua t»qu»-i - ca lo co la-n. 



tmtenmllmul e»K>ri*M g-itrtd. 




■ eydnbln Orlttoa M< cksrl} mkrk«<. 
• k men gwrar U ta> ti>«m,dm s 4«Mla« irl|>let. 
§lljkce«. <r.»wr**/. /*•«.«•»«»*»*• A-»» 

At length the song stops. Squaws begin nudging the 
braves and pointing forward. New music by the Medicine 
Man begins. The Zonzimondi, The Mujje Mukesin* or 



Rather fast 



:f^=^ 



g=! 



^ 



Muj - je muk - e - sin aw - yaw - yon muj - je muk - e - sin aw - yaw - yon 



^ 



a 



muj - je muk - e - sin aw - yaw - yon muj - je muk - e - sin aw - yaw - yon. 

other dance song. The braves jump up, dance around 
once, with heads high in air, almost held backward and 
not crouching at all. ij^hey cany no clubs yet.) 



* This Moccasin Song is from Fred R. Burton's American "Primitive 
Music," 1909. 

There are many fine airs and dance.<! in Alice C. Fletcher's " Indian Story 
»nd Song," Small, Maynard & Co., 1900. ($1.00.) 



Songs, Dances, and Ceremonies 67 

After going once around, each is back again near his 
squaw, and she holds out to him the war club and utters 
the little squaw yelp. Each brave takes his club, and no\\- 
begins the crouch dance. Going three times around, and 
each time crouching lower while the squaws stand or sit 
in a circle, arms down tight to side, but bodies swaying in 
time to music. In the fourth round all are crouching 
very low and moving sideways, facing inward. 

The music suddenly changes, and all do the slow sneak 
toward the centre with much pantomime. The squaws 
watch eagerly and silently, leaning forward, shading their 
eyes with one hand. All the braves strike the fire 
together, utter the loud war whoop, and stand for a 
moment with hands and weapons raised high, then, in 
time to the fast drum, dance quickly erect with high steps 
and high heads to the squaws who utter the squaw yelp 
for welcome, and all sit down as before. 

The squaws begin the singing again, repeat the whole 
scene, but this time the chief falls when the block is struck, 
and is left lying there when the other braves retire. 

His squaw stands up, and says: '* Mee-heheenna tnk-tay- 
ay-hay natang ee-tang-chang-keeng." ("Where is my chief, 
he who led you to battle?") 

All look and whisper; his wife gets up to seek. Soon 
she finds him, and flinging herself on his breast with 
clasped hands, breaks forth in the lament for the dead, 
which is a high-pitched, quavering wail. The warriors 
lift him up and slowly carry him off the scene, out of sight, 
followed by the squaws, who, with heads bent, sing: 



68 



The Book of Woodcraft 
THE LAMENT 



Adagio, p 




me and you Dire fall our ven-geance due on 



those who slew our war-rior true Our war-rior true Our 




those who slew our war-rior true Our war-rior true Our war-rior true 
Music from F. R. Burton's American Primitive Music, by permission. 

Repeat it many times; as they disappear, the music dies 
away, fainter and fainter. 

If no girls take part, let the braves enter in procession, 
singing, and carry their clubs throughout, and at the end 
one of them made up like an Indian woman goes out and 
finds the dead chief. 



THE CARIBOU DANCE 

The easiest of our campfire dances to learn, and the 
best for quick presentation, is the Caribou Dance. I have 
put it on for public performance, after twenty minutes' re- 
hearsing, with fellows who never saw it before; and it does 
equally well for indoor gymnasium or for campfire in the 
woods. 



Songs, Dances, and Ceremonies 



69 



In the way of fixings for this, you need four pairs of horns 
and four tails. I have seen real deer horns used, but they 
are scarce and heavy. It is better to go out where you can 
get a few crooked limbs of oak, cedar, hickory, or apple 
tree; and cut eight pair, as near like a, b, c, in the cut as pos- 
sible, each about two feet long and one inch thick at the 
butt. Peel these; point the square ends of the branches, 




then lash them in pairs, thus (d). A pair, of cou^'se, 
is needed for each caribou. These are held in the hand 
and above the head, or in the hand resting on the head. 

The tails are made each out of one third of a flat barrel 
hoop of wood. At one end of the hoop make four holes in 
pairs, an inch apart; thus (see fin cut). These are for cords 
that pass over the wearer's belt and through the hoop. 



70 The Book of Woodcraft 

The hoop is then wrapped with white muslin and finished 
with a tuft of white muslin strips on the end. The tail 
finished, looks (g), and is stuck inside the wearer's belt, 
which goes through the two cord loops. (^), shows a way 
of fastening on the tail with cord only. 

The four caribou are best in white. Three or four 
hunters are needed. They should have bows but no ar- 
rows. The Medicine Man should have a drum and be able 
to sing the Mujje Mukesin, as given, or other Indian dance 
tune. One or two fellows who can howl like wolves should 
be sent off to one side, and another that can yell like a lynx 
or a panther on the other side, well away from the ring. 
Now we are ready for 

THE DANCE OF THE WHITE CARIBOU 

The Medicine Man begins by giving three thumps on his 
drum to call attention; then says in a loud, singing voice: 
*'The Caribou have not come on our hunting grounds for 
three snows. We need meat. Thus only can we bring 
them back, by the big medicine of the Caribou Dance, by 
the power of the White Caribou." 

He rolls his drum, then in turn faces each of the Winds, 
beckoning, remonstrating and calling them by name. 
Kitchi-nodin (West); Keeway-din, (North); Wabani- 
nodin (East); Shawani-nodin (South). Calling last to the 
quarter whence the caribou are to come, finishing the call 
with a long Ko — Kee — Na. Then as he thumps a slow 
single beat the white caribou come in at a stately pace 
timed to the drum. Their heads are high, and they hold 
the horns on their heads, with one hand, as they proudly 
march around. After going round once in a sun circle 
(same way as the sun) , they go each to a corner. The drum 
stops; all four approach to salute the great mystery in the 



SongSt Dances, and Ceremonies 7^ 

middle, the fire. They bow to it together, heads low, tails 
high, uttering a long bellow. 

Then they circle once, close to the fire ; stop on opposite 
sides of it, facing outward; march each to a corner or com- 
pass point; and then bow or honor that wind, bellowing 
long. 

Now the Medicine Man begins any good dance song and 
beats double time. The caribou dance around once in a 
circle. The music stops. The first and second, and third 
and fourth, close in combat. They lower their heads, lock 
horns held safely away from the head, lash tails, snort, kick 
up the dust, and dance around each other two or three times. 

The music begins again, and they circle once. 

The music stops. Now the first and fourth and second 
and third lock horns and fight. 

After a round or so, the music begins again and they 
circle, dancing as before. 

Now the howling of wolves is heard in the distance, from 
the fellows already posted. 

The caribou rush toward that side and face it in a row, 
threatening, with horns low, as they snort, stamp, and kick 
up the dust. 

The wolf-howling ceases. The caribou are victorious. 
They turn away and circle once to the music, holding their 
heads high. 

The wolf-howling, panther-yelling (or other menacing 
sound) is now heard in the other direction. 

Again the caribou line up and defy it. When it ceases, 
they dance proudly around, heads up, chests out as they 
step, for they have conquered every foe. 

But a band of hunters appears, crawling flat on their 
breasts and carrying bows. They crawl half around the 
ring, each telling those behind by signs, "Here they are; 
we have found them." "Four big fellows." "Come on," 



n The Book of Woodcraft 

etc. When they come opposite the caribou, the first 
hunter lets off a short "yelp." The caribou spring to the 
opposite side of the ring, and then line up to defy this new 
noise; but do not understand it, so gaze in fear. The 
hunters draw their bows together, and make as though each 
let fly an arrow, then slap their hands to make a loud 
"crack." The first caribou drops, the others turn in fear 
and run around about half of the ring, heads low, and not 
dancing; then they dash for the timber. The hunters run 
forward with yells. The leader holds up the horns. All 
dance and yell around the fallen caribou and then drag it 
off the scene. 

The Medicine Man says: "Behold, it never fails; the 
Caribou dance brings the Caribou. It is great medicine. 
Now there is meat in the lodge." 

For a large ring, the number of caribou might be doubled, 
and variations introduced whenever we find some one who 
can make good imitation of any animal or bird. 

THE DOG DANCE 

This is a Shoshoni celebration.* A procession is formed. 
The leader carries a bucket, a stool, or a basket upside 
down, for a low stand. The next one carries a dog's skull, 
or something like one. We have used a loaf of bread, pro- 
vided with eyes and teeth, or a big puff ball. The next has 
a dish or a flat Indian basket or tray. The next two or 
three have feathers, and the rest have crackers or candies. 
The last is fixed up with a dog's mask and tail and runs on 
all-fours. 

The procession comes in dancing and barking to a little 
dance tune. Goes once around. 

* For this I am chiefly indebted to Hamlin Garland. 



3ons:s> Dances, and Ceremonies 73 

Then the leader puts down the stand. The skull is set 
on it, and the tray on the ground before. The rest sit in a 
half circle in front. 

The leader then kneels down and addresses the skuli 
thus: "Dog! In the days of our fathers you were the one 
who dragged the lodge poles from camp to camp. Without 
you, we could have had no comfortable place in which to 
sleep. So I will dance and sing in your honor to-night." 

He puts a feather in the dog's head, then dances his best 
dance, while the rest sing, "Yap-yap, Yap-yap, Yap-yap, 
Yow-w-w-o" in imitation of a dog barking on a rising scale, 
finishing with a long howl. 

The leader has now danced to the other end of the half- 
circle and sits down. 

The next comes and addresses the skull: "Dog! In 
times of war you were the one who guarded the camp at 
night. No one could surprise us when you were on watch. 
Nothing could make you betray us. So I will dance and 
sing in your honor to-night!" 

He adds a feather and dances his best, while the rest 
"Yap" the dog chorus. Then he sits at the opposite end 
of the circle. 

The next comes and says, perhaps "Dog! In the days 
of our fathers, you were the one who could follow the 
wounded deer. You made the hunting a success. So 1 
will dance and sing in your honor to-night." He adds a 
feather or a candy, and dances. (Yap, yap, as before.) 

The next says: "Dog! When I was a Httle pappoose, I 
wandered from the village and fell in the river. No one 
saw me. I should have been drowned, but you jumped in 
and pulled me out. So I will dance and sing in your honor 
to-night." He adds his contribution and dances. 

The next says, "Dog! You were the one who cleaned 
ap the camp, so we were not troubled with flies." 



74 The Book of Woodcraft 

Others thank the dog for finding the lost children, fof 
giving alarm when an enemy approached, for killing a 
rattler, for finding the lost medicine bag, etc. 

Then the last one, the boy dog, comes up and barks at 
the head. 

Finally, the leader resumes, saying: "Yes, Dog! You 
were the one that dragged the lodge poles. You were the 
one that found the wounded deer, etc. And best of all, 
first, last, and all the time, you were our faithful friend, 
and all you asked in return was a bite to eat and a place to 
lie down. And so long as the blue sky is above the green 
grass you will be the friend of the prairie children. Then, 
when at last we cross over the great river, and see behind 
the Divide, we hope we shall find awaiting us our old friend, 
the Dog that we may take up our friendship again, and 
continue on and on in the good country where no white 
man or smallpox ever comes." 

Then they pass around the dish and eat the crackers and 
candies; offering things to the dog, and honoring him as 
much as possible with a variety of stage "business." 
Finally, all go off, carrying the various things and barking 
as they came. 

OJIBWA SNAKE DANCE 

Select a good dancer for leader. All form line, holding 
hands, carefully graded so the least is last. Then dancing 
in step to the music, they set out in a line, follow-my-leader 
style, doubling the line on itself, and evoluting around the 
fire. Sometimes the dancers face alternately — that is, all 
the even numbers in the line look one way and the odd 
another. 

A good finish is to curl in a tight spiral around the head, 
when the tail boy mounts on the back of the one before him 
and shakes a rattle, like a rattler rattling on its coil. 



Songs, Dances, and Ceremonies 75 



THE HUNTING OF MISHI-MOKWA THE BIG BEAR 

Any number of hunters up to twenty can take part in 
this game. Each one is armed with a war club. This is 
made of straw tied around two or three willow switches, and 
tightly sewn up in burlap. It should be about three feet 
long, one inch thick at the handle, and three or four inches 
through at the top. 

Each hunter must make a wooden claw two inches long 
(see Cut*) and a wooden bead three quarters of an inch long. 
The bead is usually a piece of elder with the pith pushed 
out. The claw is painted black toward the base. The 
tip is left the natural color of the wood. The bead is 
painted red. These beads and claws are strung alternately 
to form a necklace. There should be twenty in each. 
Finally, a toy balloon is blown up tight and put in a 
small bag; this is the bear's heart. 

Now select a bear. Take the biggest, if several offer. 
He may be made realistic with wool or fur. Put the neck- 
lace on him; strap the bag on his back; then give him a 
club, also three dens or mountains about one hundred 
yards apart. 

First, the Big Bear comes in and addresses the audience: 

"I am fearless Mishi-Mokwa, 
I, the mighty Mountain Grizzly, 
King of all the Western prairies. 
When the roving bands of Indians 
Come into my own dominion 
I will slay as I have slain them. 
They shall not invade my country. 
I despise those puny creatures." 

Then he stalks off to his den. 



'For cuts and details, see p. 203 among the games 



7^ The Book of Woodcraft 

Now the hunters come in, and, facing the audience, the 
leader says: 

"I am Chief of the Ojibwa, 
These are all my chosen warriors. 
We go hunting Mishi-Mokwa, 
He the Big Bear of the mountains; 
He that ravages our borders. 
We will surely seek and slay him; 
Or, if we should fall before him, 
We will die like men of valor. 
Dying, winning deathless glory." 

Or, as an alternative prose reading, he says: 

"I am Chief of the Black Hawk Band. These are my chosen 

warriors; the pick of my tribe. We go to hunt the Mishi- 
Mokwa, the Big Bear of the mountains. He is big and terrible. 
He kills our people every day. Many of us may die in the fight, 
but living or dead, we shall win glory. Now we dance the 
war dance." 

All give the war whoop and dance, imitating a bear on 
his hind legs. At intervals, when the music changes, every 
other one strikes his neighbor on the back with his club, 
at which he turns and growls horribly. 

Chief: "Now we go to seek the foe." 

They set out, looking for the trail. They find it and 
follow, studying the ground, smelling it, peeking and 
pointing here S.nd there till they get pretty close to the 
Big Bear, whereupon he rouses up with a growl. The war- 
riors spring back, but, encouraged by the Chief, they form 
a circle and approach the bear. The Chief shouts: 

"Ho, Mishi-Mokwa, we have found you. Come forth now, 
for I mean to club your head, and take that necklace for my own 
neck. Come forth now. You are very brave when you find an 



Songs, Dances, and Ceremonies 77 

old squaw picking berries, but you do not like the looks of this 
band. If you do not come before I count a hundred, I shall 
brand you a coward wherever I go." 

(As alternative reading, a verse) : 

" Mishi-Mokwa, we have found you, 
Come you forth and try our mettle. 
For I mean to club and brain you; 
Mean to take that magic necklace; 
Wear it for my own adorning. 
What! you dare not, valiant creature! 
You are absolutely fearless 
When you find a lot of children 
With their baskets, picking berries, 
But you do not like our war clubs; 
Noble creature, dauntless Grizzly!" 

The bear springs forth, growling. He uses his club freely, 
trying to knock the hunters' hats off. Once a hat is oflf, 
the owner is dead and must drop beside it. 

The bear makes for his second mountain or den, and he 
is safe as long as he is in, or touching, a den. But again 
the hunters force him to come out, by taunts and by count- 
ing. He must continue to go the rounds of his three dens 
till either the bear or all the hunters are killed. 

One good blow on the bear's heart breaks it with aloud 
"bang." Then the bear must fall; he is dead. The war- 
rior who dealt the fatal blow, no matter who, now becomes 
the leader, the others join in with war whoops. He takes 
the necklace from the bear's neck. Then, standing with 
one foot on the bear, he brandishes his club, shouting, 
"Ha, ha, how, now, Mishi-Mokwa! Yesterday you did 
not know me. Now you know me; know my war club. 
I am none but Hiawatha." 

The surviving hunters drag the bear before the grand- 



78 The Book of Woodcraft 

stand. The Medicine Man or Woman shouts, "WelcomCj 
mighty Hiawatha, you have killed the Mishi-Mokwa." 
Hiawatha replies: 

"Yes, we've killed the Mishi-Mokwa, 
But my band is now a remnant. 
On the hillsides, in the valleys. 
Many fighting men are lying. 
Many of my chosen warriors, 
Killed by fearful Mishi-Mokwa." 

(Medicine Man) : *' What ! is it true? " 
(All answer): "Yes; Gray Wolf is dead; Whooping 
Crane," and so on. 
(Medicine Man) : 

"Here bring me earth and fire and water, 
Bring me wood and plume of eagle, 
Bring me hair of Mishi-Mokwa." 

(All run to get these things.) 

The Medicine Man makes a fire, throws in the things, and 
as the smoke goes up, he blows it with his robe to the 
four quarters of the heavens, saying: 

"Hear me. Oh, ye four wind spirits, 
Though these warriors' souls have left us, 
Ye who have them in your keeping, 
Bring them back into their bodies. 
I command you by the magic 
Of the med'cine I have made me 
Of the scalp of Mishi-Mokwa, 
Hear me. Oh, ye stricken warriors." 

(They all stir a little.) 

"Hear! Though dead, you all must hear me." 



Songs, Dances, and Ceremonies 79 

(They stir again.) 

"Hear me! Ho!" 

(They all jump up and join the circle amid cheers and 
greetings from the others.) 

(The Medicine Man now says) : 

"Honor be to Hiawatha, 
He hath saved his loving people. 
On his neck we place the necklace 
Of the bear claws and the wampum. 
So the tribes shall still remember 
He it was killed Mishi-Mokwa." 

All join in a war-dance to drum, around the body of the 
bear. 

If, on the other hand, all the hunters are killed by the 
bear, he comes forward and hands the necklace to the 
Medicine Man, saying: 

"I'm the mighty Mountain Grizzly; 
Dead are those who sought to slay me. 
Mortal man cannot subdue me, 
But I bow me to your magic." 

The Medicine Man takes the necklace, holds it up, and 
replies : 

"Mishi-Mokwa of the mountains, 
You are chief of all the mighty, 
Keep the sacred wampum necklace. 
You have won it, wear it, keep it." 

(He puts it on the bear's neck.) 

"You have won a name of glory. 
Henceforth all the tribes shall tremble 
At the name of Mishi-Mokwa. 



8o The Book of Woodcraft 

But a truce I now command you: 
Manitou, whose children all are, 
Made the land for all his children; 
There is room for Bear and Hunters. 
Rise up, Brethren, greet your Brother, 
Valor always honors valor." 

(All jump up now, cheering. They dance around the 
bear, shaking his paw, and grunting, "How, how, how.") 

The winner, whether bear or chief, keeps the necklace as 
his own, and may have the title if he desires it; in one case, 
of Mishi-Mokwa, in the other of Hiawatha, Bear-killer, or 
Grizzly-chief. 

INDIAN SONG BOOKS 

Alice Fletcher's ''Indian Song and Story." (Small & 
Maynard) $i.oo. 

F. R. Burton's "American Primitive Music." (Mofiat, 
Yard, & Co.) $5.00. 

Natalie Curtis. ''The Indians' Book" (Harper & Bros.) 
$7.50. 

Frances Densmore. "Chippewa Music" (Smithsonian 
Institution). 

THE WEASEL IN THE WOOD 

This is a French song game. Somewhat like our "But- 
ton, Button, " or the Indian Moccasin Game. The players 
sit in a circle with hands on a cord which goes all around. 
On the cord is a ring, which is passed secretly from one to 
another as they sing the song on next page. Each time 
the singing ends, the one in the middle has to guess who 
holds the ring. If he fails he pays a forfeit. If he wins 
the loser takes his place. 



Songs, Dances, and Ceremonies 

LE FURET 

■4 >fc- 



8i 




II court, ii court le fu - ret du bois mes-da - mes, 



II court, il court le fu - ret du bois jo - li; 




II a pas - s6 par i - ci le fu - ret du bois jo • IL 



(English Substitute) 



# Vivo. 



■A IV- 



He runs, he runs, the wea-sel in the wood, my boys, 



He runs, he runs, the wea-sel in.... the wood; 



He has pass'd by here, he's pass'd,you'd catch him if you could, my boys, 

■S- 



He has pass'd by here, he's pass'd.you'd catch him if you could. 



82 



The Book of Woodcraft 

ROUSER OR REVEILLE 



Ho, sleepers, a - rise! the sun's in the skies, The summer mist 



$ 



f> h r N h ^E3t=^==^ 



^ 



* J- 



flies from the lake and the lea. The Red Gods do call: Ho, 



I 



H ^— ^ 



• •-:: m — '-gf ^ ar- 



II^^ZS 



— I* ^ 1* [— 

■J ^ J^ =^ 

high, Hi-kers all, Come drink of the Life-cup you nev-er will see. 



-mr 
Then blow ye winds high, or blow ye winds low, Or blow, ye wet 



-* :sr 

east wind o - ver the sea. We'll face ye and fight, and 



i 



M ! -& 



^ ^—^r^j^=^ ^ ,^r3^^^^ 



:5t — • -J. -4- — ^- -■ • — * • * ' * V 

laugh when you smite, For storm was the trainer that toughened the tree. 




J ' J. J J - V "* * — :S- 



\o ho! a - rise, a -rise! A - rise, a- rise, yo ho • of 



IV* Suggested Programs 

A Monthly Series 

January, the Snow Moon 
Outdoors : 

Tracks in the snow. 

Gather mosses in the woods for home study. 

Take a bird census. 

Look for cocoons and dormant insects. 

Dig out borers in dead timber for home study. 
Indoors : 

Make a target. 

Make a warbonnet. 

Study Sign Language, picture-writing, wig-wag i 
knots, spUces. 

Learn compass signs. 

Qualify in first aid. 

February, the Hunger Moon 
Outdoors : 

Snowshoeing and skiing. 

Look for rock tripe; roast and boil it as emer- 
gency food. 
Go to every aspen and study the cause of the scars 

on its trunk; each one is full of history. 
Cut lodge poles. 
Play the game "Watching by the Trail." 

83 



84 The Book of Woodcraft 

Indoors: 

Make a war shirt of sheepskins and beads. 
Make Indian furniture. 

Study signaling by semaphore, Myer, Morse, etc. 
Also by blazes, stone signs, grass signs, smoke fires 
Hand wrestling. 

March, the Wakening Moon 
Outdoors : 

Cut the rods for a willow bed. 
Cut wood for bow and arrows. 
Study geology. 
Take a new bird census. 
Get up an animal scouting for points. 
Make a quiver of canvas or leather. 
Indoors : 

Make willow bed and other woodland equipment. 

Make bird boxes to sell. 

Make rustic furniture. 

Make a wooden buffalo skull. 

April, the Green Grass Moon 
Outdoors : 

Note spring birds' arrivals. 
Collect spring flowers. 
Note early butterflies. 
Do your half-mile track work with irons. 
Make your four-mile walk for the degree of Mini- 
sino. 
Indoors : 

One-legged chicken fights. 

Make tracking irons. 

Make tilting spears for tub work, on land or 

for water. 
Carve souvenir spoons. 



Suggested Pfogr^ms §5 

May, the Planting Moon 
Outdoors : 

Make collection of wild flowers. 

Take first over-night hikes. 

Nature compass signs. 

Begin sleeping out your hundred nights. 

Indoors : 

Make a dummy deer for the deer hunt. 
Make straw clubs for bear hunt. 
Work on willow or Indian bed. 

June, the Rose Moon 
Outdoors : 

Fishing, swimming, Indian signs. 
Practise judging distances. 
Learn ten trees. 

Indoors: 

Initiate new Woodcraft boys. 

Study camp hygiene. 

Make a Navaho loom and use it; 

July, the Thunder Moon 
Outdoors: 

Camping, canoeing, or hiking. 

Play scout messenger. 

Make a sweat lodge. 
Undercover: 

Make camp mattress of grass. 

Learn the history of Tecumseh and Dull Knife. 

Practise camp cooking. 

Boil water against time, given only one match, 
a log, a pail, and a quart of water. 



86 The Book of Woodcraft 

August, the Red Moon 
Outdoors : 

Camping, canoeing, or hiking. 
Water sports. 

Medley scouting in camp, each in turn being 
called on to dance, sing, tell a story, produce 
the leaf of a given tree, imitate some animal, 
or do the four-medley race namely, row a 
hundred yards, swim a hundred, walk a 
hundred and run a hundred, for honors. 
Indoors : 

Make a war club, each, for use in dancing. 
Make a hunter's lamp. 
Make a camp broom. 

September, the Hunting Moon 
Outdoors : 

Camping, over-night hikes, etc. 
Now the water is low, make dams and docks at 
swimming place for next year. 
Indoors : 

Make a collection of spore prints, and portraits 

of fungus. 
When raining: Practise tribal calls, story telling, 
and games like Rattler and Feather-blow. 
Make a Peace Pipe of wood. 

October, the Leaf-falling Moon 
Outdoors: 

Make a collection of leaves and study trees. 

Make a collection of nuts. 

Gather wood for bows and arrows. 
Indoors : 

Arrange, mount, and name specimens 

Learn knots. First aid. 



Suggested Programs 87 

November, the Mad Moon 
Outdoors : 

This is the Moon of Short Hikes. 
Now build a cabin for winter use. 
Study evergreens. 

This is the Moon of Gloom and Sadness, so study 
fire Ugh ting; rubbing-stick fire. 
Indoors: 

Study Sign Language and picture writing. 
Carve horns, spoons, and cups, decorating with 

record pictography. 
Take up taxidermy. 
Decorate the Tally Book. 

December, the Long Night Moon. 
Outdoors : 

This is the time to learn the stars. Also study 
evergreens, making a collection of their 
twigs and cones. 
Indoors : 

Make bead work for costumes. 

Get up entertainments to raise money. 

Make an Indian Council, or a Wild-West Show. 

Learn the War dances. 

suggestions for evenings 
1st Hour: 
RoU call. 

Train new fellows, if need be, in knots, and laws; or 
prepare others for ist and 2d degrees. 
2d Hour: 

Lesson in one or other of the following subjects: 

Semaphore, Myer code, tracks, animals, birds. 
Sign Language, trees, basketry, carving, 
stars, fire-lighting, box-making, bed-making, 



88 The Book of Woodcraft 

3(i Hour: 

Lessons in Indian dances. 
Learn some song. 
Tell a story. 

Close, singing National Anthem or the Omaha Tribal 
Prayer. 

ANIMAL STORY BOOKS FOR EVENINGS 

Written by Ernest Thompson Seton. 

Published by Charles Scribner's Sons 

153 5th Ave., New York City. 

Wild Animals I Have Known, 1898. 

The stories of Lobo, Silverspot, Molly Cottontail, 
Bingo, Vixen, The Pacing Mustang, Wully, and 
Redruff. Price, $2. 
LoBO, Rag and Vixen, 1900. 

This is a school edition of the above, with some of 
the stories and many of the pictures left out. 
Price, 50c. net. 
The Trail of the Sandhill Stag, 1899. 

The story of a long hunt that ended without a tragedy. 
Price, $1.50. 
The Lives of the Hunted, 1901. 

The stories of Krag, Randy, Johnny Bear, The Mother 
Teal, Chink, The Kangaroo Rat, and Tito, The 
Coyote. Price, $1.75, net. 
Krag and Johnny Bear, 1902. 

This is a school edition of the above, with some of 
the stories and many of the pictures left out. 
Price, 50c. net. 
Monarch, the Big Bear of Tallac, 1904. 

The story of a big California Grizzly that is living 
yet. Price, $1.25 net. 



Suggested Programs 89 

Animal Heroes, 1905. 

The stories of a Slum Cat, a Homing Pigeon, The 
Wolf That Won, A Lynx, A Jack-rabbit, A Bull- 
terrier, The Winnipeg Wolf and A White Rein- 
deer. Price $1.75 net. 



Published by The Century Company, 
Union Square, New York City. 

Biography of a Grizzly, 1900. 

The story of old Wahb from Cubhood to the scene 
in Death Gulch. Price, $1.50. 

WOODMYTH AND FaBLE, I905. 

A collection of fables, woodland verses, and camp 

stories. Price, $1.25 net. 
Biography of a Silver Fox, 1909. 

The story of a New England silver fox. Price, $1.50. 

(A companion to the Grizzly.) 



Published by Doubleday, Page & Company, 
Garden City, N. Y. 

Two Little Savages, 1903. 

A book of adventure and woodcraft and camping 
out for boys, telling how to make bows, arrows, 
moccasins, costumes, teepee, warbonnet, etc., 
and how to make a fire with rubbing sticks, read 
Indian signs, etc. Price, $2.00 net. 
Rolf in the Woods, 1911. 

The Adventures of a Boy Scout with Indian Quonab 
and little dog Skookum. More than 200 draw- 
ings by the author. Price, $2.00 net. 
Wild Animl^ls at Home, 1913. 

With more than 150 sketches and photographs by the 



90 The Book of Woodcraft 

author. 226 pages. Price, $2.00 net. In this 
Mr. Seton gives for the first time his personal 
adventures in studying wild animals. 

Wild Animal Ways, 1916. 

Seven wild animal stories. The history of a Razor- 
back Hog, a Coon, a Wild Horse, etc. More 
than 200 drawings by the author. 247 pages. 
Price, $2.00 net. 

The Preacher of Cedar Mountain, 191 7. 

A tale of the open country. Founded on real life in the 
West. Mr. Seton's first novel. Price, $1.90 net. 
Sign Talk of the Indians, 1918. Price, $3.00 net. 



INDOOR OR winter ACTIVITIES 

Handicraft: 

Make a willow bed (see later); teepee; war club for cere- 
monial use in dance; boat; skiff; bird boxes; wall pocket 
for camp; bow and arrows; paddle and paint it; fire sticks 
for rubbing-stick fire; drum; baskets of spruce, raffia or 
rattan, etc.; and decorate the Tally Book. Map-making. 

Games (see Index) : 

Learn the Games: Tree the coon. Quicksight. Farsight. 
Let each imitate some animal, or all the same animal. 
Practise cockfight. Practise spearfight on tubs. Feather- 
blow. Bear hunt. Rat on-his-lodge (with Uttle sawdust 
bags.) 

Learn: The flags of some other nations. The flags of the 
weather bureau. The stars. The evergreen trees. The 
Indian blazes and signs. 

Learn: First aid. Sign Languge. Signaling. 

Songs: Some songs for camp. War song of Sitting Bull. 
Omaha Tribal Prayer. 

Dances: The War dance. The Dog dance. Snake dance. 
Caribou dance. 



Suggested Programs 91 

ROBE OR WAR SHIRT CONTEST 

It will be found stimulating to offer a grand prize for 
the individual that scores the highest in the whole camp- 
out, according to a given scale of points. We usually call 
this a Robe Contest, because the favorite prize is a Saga- 
more's robe — that is, a blanket decorated with figures in 
colored wools or in applique work. A war shirt also makes 
a good prize. The standard for points used at our last 
camp was as follows : All events for which the fixed stand- 
ards allow more than 5 minutes, 20 and 5 points as winner 
and loser. All less than 5 minutes, 10 and 2. 

Sturgeon: The crews get, each, 10 for every sturgeon 
they land. 

Deer hunt: The winners score 10 for each deer hunted; 
the losers score 2 for each deer hunted. 

Each fellow who wished to be in it was allowed for his 
contribution to the Council entertainment: For songs: 
up to 25 points each; for long stories, up to 25 points each; 
for jokes, up to 25 points each; for stunts, up to 25 points 
each; for hand wrestling and other competitions, 5 on for 
winner, 5 off for loser. All challenges not given in Coun- 
cil must be handed to the committee for approval, three 
hours before running off. 

Prizes: ist man, 15; 2d, 10; 3d, 5 points. 

All competitions must be on the present camp ground. 
Extra points up to 25 per day for neatness and extra ser- 
vice. Campfire up to 25 for each of the two keepers. 
Dock up to any number for breach of laws. For each hour 
of camp ser\dce, 10 points per hour. Articles made since 
camp began up to 50 points. All points must be handed 
in as soon as made. The Council may refuse those held 
back. Those who have won robes are not to enter for 
present contest. Those under 14, or over 35, get 10 per 
cent, handicap; those over 14 and under 18, get 5 per cent. 



92 The Book of Woodcraft 

SUGGESTED CAMP ROUTINE 

6.30 A.M. Turn out, bathe, etc. 

7.00 " Breakfast. 

8.00 " Air bedding, in sun, if possible. 

8.15 " Business Council of Leaders. 

9.00 *' Games and practice. 

11.00 " Swimming. 

12.00 " Dinner. 

1 . 00 P.M. Talk by Leader. 

2.00 " Games, etc. 

4.00 " Swimming. 

6.00 " Supper. 

7.00 " Evening Council. 

10.00 " Lights out. 

GOOD PROGRAM OF ENTERTAINMENT AT A COUNCIL 

Indian Formal Opening. 

Peace Pipe. 

Braves to be sworn in. 

Honors. 

Names. 

First aid. 

Initiations. 

Fire-making. 

Challenges. 

Water-boiling. 

Caribou dance. 

Close by singing the Omaha Prayer. 

INDOOR COMPETITION FOR A PRIZE 

Each must get up and tell a short story. No excuses 
allowed. It is better to try and fail, than not to try. The 
one who fails to try is a quitter. 



Suggested Programs 93 

Mark off on a stick your idea of a yard, a foot, and an 
inch. 

Show a war club made by yourself. 

Dance a step. 

Sing a song "Mary's Little Lamb" — if you can do 
no better. 

Lay a pole to point to true north. ' 

Draw a map of North America from memory in ten 
minutes. 

Show a piece of wood-carving by yourself, it may be a 
picture frame, a spool, an image, a doll, a box, or a peach 
basket — but do it. 

Give an imitation of some animal — dog, cat, monkey, 
mouse, bird, or any wild creature you have seen. 

Let each, in turn, read some one poem, and try who can 
do it best. 

Play the part of an Indian woman finding her warrior 
dead. 

ONE-DAY HIKES 

I think it is a good rule in hiking, never to set out with 
the determination that you are going to show how hardy 
you are. It is as bad as setting out to show how smart 
you are. "Smart Aleck" always lands in the gutter. 
Do not set out to make a record. Record breakers gen- 
erally come to grief in the end. Set out on your hike 
determined to he moderate. That is, take a few fellows; 
not more than a dozen. Plan a moderate trip, of which 
not more than half the time must be consumed in going 
and coming. 

For example, if it is Saiturday afternoon, and you must 
be home by six o'clock, having thus four hours, I should 
divide it in two hours' travel, going and coming, and two 
hours' exploration. Three miles is a moderate walk for 



94 The Book of Woodcraft 

one hour, so that should be the limit of distance that 
ordinarily you tramp from your starting point. At five 
o'clock all hands should gird up their loins and face home- 
ward. 

These are some rules I have found good in hiking: 

Do not go in new shoes. 

Be sure your toe nails and corns are well pared before going. 

Do not take any very little or weak fellows. 

Be prepared for rain. 

Take a pair of dry socks. 

Travel Indian file in woods, and double Indian file in 
roads. 

Take a Book of Woodcraft along. 

Always have with you a rule and tape line, knife, some 
string, and some matches. 

Take a compass, and sometimes a pocket level. 

Take a map, preferably the topographical survey. 

Take a notebook and a pencil. 

Do not waste time over things you can do as well, or 
better, at home. 

And last, and most important, it is wise to set out with 
an object. 

Here are samples of the ideas I have found useful as 
objects for a short hike in winter: 

To determine that hard maple (or other timber) does or 
does not grow in such a woods. 

To prove that a certain road runs north and south. 

To decide whether the valley is or is not higher than the 
one across the divide. 

To prove that this or that hill is higher than such a one. 

To get any winter fungi. 

To look for evergreen fern. 



Suggested Programs 95 

To get, each, loo straight rods, 30 inches long, to make 
Indian bed, of willow, hazel, kinnikinik, arrowwood, etc. 

To get wood for rubbing-sticks, or for a fire-bow. 

To get horns for a Caribou dance. 

If there is snow, to take, by the tracks, a census of a 
given woods, making full-size drawings of each track — 
that is, four tracks, one for each foot; and also give the 
distance to the next set. 

If there is snow, to determine whether there are any 
skunk dens in the woods, by following every skunk trail 
until it brings you to its owner's home. 

Now, be it remembered that, though I always set out 
with an object, I find it wise to change whenever, after I 
get there, some much more alluring pursuit or opportunity 
turns up. Any one who sticks to a plan, merely because 
he started that way, when it turns out to be far from the 
best, is not only unwise, he is stupid and obstinate. 



V» General Scouting Indoors 

Handicraft Stunts 

LET each Scout carve a fork and spoon out of wood, 
with his band totem on handle. 
Make a needle case out of a fowl's leg or wing 
bone, thus: Clean and smooth about three inches of the 
bone plug up one end with a soft wood plug and make a, 
wooden stopper for the other end. Then with the point of 
a knife decorate the bone. The lines should be scratched 
in deeply and then have black paint rubbed into them. If 
no black paint is handy make a mixture of soot and pine- 
gum, with a little grease, butter or oil. 

Make a tackle box or ditty box 2x2x6 inches carved out of 
solid wood. 

Make peach-stone baskets, of a peach-stone shaped with a 
lile. 

Turkey call. An interesting curio is the turkey call. 
Take a small cigar box and cut off the end as in the figure. 
Get a piece of slate about 2x3 inches long, or, failing slate, 
take a fiat piece of wood and rub it well with rosin. Draw 
the two curved edges of the box hghtly up this one way, and 
it will make a wonderfully good imitation of a turkey call. 

A Chicken squawk. This is another call easily made. 
Take any small round tin box — a condensed milk tin is 
good — and make a hole through the bottom and into this 
put a cord. A knot on the inside prevents the cord from 

96 



General Scouting Indoors 



97 




slipping through. Rosin the cord and draw the fingers 
down it with short and long jerks. This give a good imi- 
tation of a cackling hen. 

Picture frames as in the above illustrations. 

Also make beds of willow rods, grass rugs, baskets of 
spruce roots, etc. as described elsewhere. 



98 



The Book of Woodcraft 







Birch-hark boxes and baskets. These are easily made if 
the bark be softened in hot water before you shape it. The 
lacing is spruce roots, also softened with hot water. 

(See "How to Make Baskets," by Mary White, Double- 
day, Page & Co., $1 plus lo cents postage.) 

SOUVENIR SPOONS 

A good indoor activity of Scouts is the making of souve- 
nir spoons. Some craftsmen are clever enough to make 
these out of wood or of silver. I have found that the best, 
easy-working material is bone, deer antler or horn. Go to 
any big drug shop and get one of the 25-cent horn spoons. 
It is already of a good spoon-shape, of course. The handle is 
hard, smooth, and ready to be ornamented with any device, 
cutting it with knife or file, into the owner's totem, or the 
clan or the tribal totems which naturally suggest themselve* 



General Scouting Indoors 



99 





Skookuni Wild Cat 



Owl 



Eagle Johnny Bear 



The design should be sketched on with pencil or ink, then 
realized by shaping the outHne with file or knife. The inner 
lines are merely scratched on the surface. 

In general, one should avoid changing the main outline 
of the spoon handle or cutting it enough to weaken it. 
Always, rather, adapt the animal to fill the desired 
space. 

There are several purposes the spoon can answer: First 
as a spoon in camp, especially when prizes are offered to 
the camp that makes most of its own equipment; next, as a 
salable article; third, as exhibition article when it is de- 
sired to get up a fine exhibit of handicraft products illus- 
trating camp life. 



KNOTS 



The following are standard knots that an accom- 
plished camper should know. Remember a perfect knot 
is one that's neither jambs nor slips. 



lOO 



The Book of Woodcraft 





B >^3 o 
H j^ K o.S V 



General Scouting Indoors 



lOI 




102 



The Bcx)k of Woodcraft 



FIRESIDE TRICK 



An Indian showed me this, though I have since seen 
it among whites! 

Put your hands together as in the drawing, palms also 
touching. 

The thumbs are you 
and your brother. You 
can separate easily — 
like that. 

The first fingers are 
you and your father, you 
can separate not quite 
so easily — like that: 

The Httle fingers are 
you and your sister, you 
can separate, but that 
comes a little harder 
still — Hke that. 

The middle fingers are 

you and your mother, 

you can separate, but it 

is hard — see that. 

The ring fingers are 

you and your sweetheart, you cannot separate without 

everything else going first to pieces. 




THE LONE STAR TRICK 

A Texan showed me an interesting trick on the table. 
He took six wooden toothpicks, bent them sharply in the 
middle, and laid them down in the form shown in "A.'* 

"Now," he says, "when our people got possession of 
Texas, it was nothing but a wilderness of cactus spines. 




General Scouting Indoors 103 

See them there! Then 
they began irrigating. 
(Here he put a spoonful 
of water in the centre of 
the spines.) And then 
a change set in and kept 
on until they turned into 
the Lone Star State." 

As we watched, the water caused the toothpicks to 
straighten out until they made the pattern of a star as 
in "B." 

BIRD BOXES OR HOUSES 

A good line of winter work is making bird boxes to have 
them ready for the spring birds. 

Two styles of bird houses are in vogue; one a miniature 
house on a pole, the other is an artificial hollow limb in a 
tree. 

First — the miniature cabin or house on a pole. This is 
very good for martins, swallows, etc., and popular with most 
birds, because it is safest from cats and squirrels. But 
most of us consider it far from ornamental. 

To make one, take any wooden box about six inches square 
put a wooden roof on it (a in Cut), then bore a hole in the 
middle of one end, making it one and one half inches wide; 
and on the bottom nail a piece of two-inch wood with an 
inch auger hole in it (b). Drive in a nail for a perch 
below the door and all is ready for a coat of soft, olive- 
green paint. After this is dry, the box is finished. When 
you set it in place, the end of the pole is shaved to fit tight 
into the auger hole in the bottom, and the pole then set up, 
or fastened to the end of the building. In the latter case 
a six or eight foot pole is long enough. In some neighbor- 
hoods it is necessary to put tin as a cat and rat guard, on 



I04 



The Book of Woodcraft 



the pole, as shown (c and d). Some elaborate these 
bird houses, making a half dozen compartments. When 
this is done the pole goes right through the lowest floor and 
fits into a small hole in the floor above. 




Bmi> bOK^S 



These large apartment houses are very popular with the 
purple martin, as well as with the Enghsh sparrow if they 
are set up in town. 

Alexander Wilson tells us that the Choctaw and 
Chicasaw Indians used to make bird houses for the 



General Scouting Indoors 105 

purple martins thus: "Cut off all the top branches 
from a sapling, near their cabins, leaving the prongs a 
foot or two in length, on each of which they hang a 
gourd, or calabash properly hollowed out for their con- 
venience." 

But the wild-wood box or hollow limb is more sightly and 
for some birds more attractive. There are several ways of 
using the natural limb. One is, take a seven or eight inch 
stick of chestnut about twenty inches long, split four slabs 
off it: (O) then saw off three inches of each end of the 
"core " and nail the whole thing together again (P and Q), 
omitting the middle part of the core. 

Another way is to split the log in half and scoop out the 
interior of each half (L and M). When nailed together 
again it makes a commodious chamber, about five inches 
wide and a foot or more deep. 

Another plan is: Take a five-inch limb of green chest- 
nut, ehn, or any other tough-barked tree. Cut a piece 
eighteen inches long, make a long bevel on one end 
(e). Now carefully split the bark on one side and peel it. 
Then saw the peeled wood into three pieces (f g h), leave 
out g and put the bark on again. Cut a hole in the bark on 
the longest side, at the place farthest from the beveled end 
(x in e), and your bird nest is finished. The beveled end 
is there to make it easily nailed up; when in place, it is as 
at I. The front — that is, the side where the door is — 
should always be the under one; and the door in each case 
should be near the top. 

But these methods presuppose a fine big stick of wood. 1 
have more often found it convenient to work with scraps. 

Here is one easy way that I have long used: From a 
four or five inch roimd log saw off two sections each two 
inches thick, or failing a log, cut out two circles from a 
two-inch plank, for top and bottom parts (like f and h); 



io6 The Book of Woodcraft 

then using six or seven laths instead of bark, make a hol- 
low cylinder (J). Cover the hollow cylinder with a large 
piece of bark and cut the hole (K). Cut your entry at the 
top, half on each of a pair of laths. Cover the whole thing 
with bark nailed neatly on; or failing the bark, cover it 
with canvas and paint a dull green mottled with black and 
gray. 

This last has the advantage of giving most room in a 
small log. Of course, if one can find a hollow limb, all this 
work is saved. By way of variety this one can be put up 
hanging from a nail, for which the wire loop is made. 

To a great extent the size of hole regulates the kind of 
bird, as most birds Hke a tight fit. 

For wrens make it about one inch; for bluebirds, and tree- 
swallows one and one half inches; for martins two and one 
half inches. 

For latest ideas send to The Jacobs Bird House Com- 
pany, 404 So. Washington Street, Waynesburg, Pa. 

See also the ''Making of a Hollow Tree," By E. T. Seton, 
Country Life in America, November, 1908, and seq. 

"Putting up Bird Boxes," By B. S. Bowdish (special 
leaflet), Audubon Society, 141 Broadway, New York. 
15 cents per dozen. 

"Useful Birds and Their Protection," By E. H. Forbush, 
Massachusetts State Board Agriculture, p. 388. 

HOW TO RAISE SOME MONEY 

A good Woodcrafter always "travels on his own steam." 
When you want to go camping, don't go round begging for 
the cash, but earn it. And a good time to do this is in 
the winter when you are forced to stay indoors. 

How? One way, much in the line of our work, is making 



General Scouting Indoors 107 

some bird houses. I know a number of persons who would 
gladly put up bird houses, if they could get them easily. 
See article on Bird Houses. 

You can either sell them in a lot to a man who has al- 
ready a shop for garden stuff or hardware, or put them on a 
hand cart and sell them at much better prices yourself. 
It is useless to take them to a farmer, or to folks in town, 
but a ready sale will be found among the well-to-do in the 
suburbs, in a country town, or among the summer residents 
of the country. The simple boxes might fetch 50 cents 
each, the more elaborate $1.00 or $2.00 according to the 
labor they have cost you. 

Another way is the manufacture of Indian stuff such as 
furniture, birch-bark boxes, baskets, rustic seats, etc., as 
described elsewhere in the book. See index. 



VL General Scouting Outdoors 

Rubbing-Stick Fire 

I HAVE certainly made a thousand fires with rubbing- 
sticks, and have made at least five hundred different 
experiments. So far as I can learn, my own record of 
thirty-one seconds from taking the sticks to having the fire 
ablaze is the world's record, and I can safely promise 
this: That every boy who will follow the instructions 
I now give will certainly succeed in making his rubbing- 
stick fire. 

Take a piece of dry, soimd, balsam-fir wood (or else 
cedar, cypress, tamarac, basswood or cottonwood, in order 
of choice) and make of it a drill and a block, thus: 

Drill. Five eighths of an inch thick, twelve to fifteen 
inches long; roughly rounded, sharpened at each end as in 
the cut (Cut I a). 

Block, or hoard, two inches wide, six or eight inches long, 
five eighths of an inch thick. In this block, near one end, 
cut a side notch one half an inch deep, wider on the under 
side; and near its end half an inch from the edge make a 
little hollow or pit in the top of the block, as in the illustra- 
tion (Cut I b). 

Tinder. For tinder use a wad of fine, soft, very dry, 
(lead grass mixed with shredded cedar bark, birch bark 
or even cedar wood scraped into a soft mass. 

io8 



General Scouting Outdoors 109 

Bow. Make a bow of any bent stick two feet long, 
with a strong buckskin or belt-lacing thong on it (Cut i c). 

Socket. Finally, you need a socket. This simple little 
thing is made in many different ways. Sometimes I use 
a pine or hemlock knot with a pit one quarter inch deep, 
made by boring with the knife point. But it is a great 
help to have a good one made of a piece of smooth, hard 
stone or marble, set in wood; the stone or marble having 
in it a smooth, round pit three eighths inch wide and three 
eighths inch deep. The one I use most was made by the 
Eskimo. A view of the under side is shown in Cut i (fig. d) . 



/I. 



I. Tools for firemaking 

Now, we are ready to make the fire: 
Under the notch in the fire-block set a thin chip. 
Turn the leather thong of the bow once around the drill: 
the thong should now be quite tight. Put one point of the 
drill into the pit of the block, and on the upper end put the 
socket, which is held in the left hand, with the top of the 
drill in the hole of the stone (as in Cut 2). Hold the left 
wrist against the left shin, and the left foot on the fire-block. 
Now, draw the right hand back and forth steadily on level 
and the full length of the bow. This causes the drill to 
twirl in the pit. Soon it bores in, grinding out powder, 



no 



The Book of Woodcraft 



which presently begins to smoke. When there is a great 
volume of smoke from a growing pile of black powder, 
you know that you have the spark. Cautiously lift the 
block, leaving the smoking powder on the chip. Fan this 
with your hand till the Uve coal appears. Now, put a wad 




^^S^^nmm^ 



Tjjjrmm^SSS^L 



'■"■'Knai Ui 



2. Ready to make fire 

of the tinder gently on the spark; raise the chip to a con- 
venient height, and blow till it bursts into flame. 

N. B. (i) The notch must reach the middle of the fire-pit. 

(2) You must hold the drill steadily upright, and cannot 
do so without bracing the left wrist against the left shin, 
and having the block on a firm foundation. 

(3) You must begin lightly and slowly, pressing heavily 
and sawing fast after there is smoke. 

(4) If the fire does not come, it is because you have not 
followed these instructions. 



HIKING IN THE SNOW 



In the suggested programs I have given a number of 
outlines for one-day hikes. For those who wish to find out 



General Scouting Outdoors m 

what animals live near there is no time better than when the 
snow is on the ground. 

I remember a hike of the snow- track kind that afforded 
myself and two boy friends a number of thrills, more 
than twenty-five years ago. 

There were three of us out on a prowl through the woods, 
looking for game. We saw no Uve thing, but there had 
been a fall of soft snow, a few days before; tracks were 
abundant, and I proposed that each of us take a track and 
follow it through thick and thin, until he found the beast, 
which, if living and free, was bound to be at the other end 
of the line; or, until he found its den. Then, each should 
halloa to let the others know that his quarry was holed. 
Close by were the tracks of a mink and of two skunks. The 






.^tj 






Mink track 

mink-track was my guide. It led southward. I followed 
it through swamps and brushwood, under logs, and into 
promising nooks. Soon I crossed the trail of the youngest 
boy, closely pursuing his skunk. Later, I met my friend 
of skunk No. 2, but our trails diverged. Now I came to a 
long hill down which my mink had tobogganed six or eight 
feet, after the manner of the otter. At last the trail came 
to an end in a perfect labyrinth of logs and brush. I went 
all around this. The snow was clear and smooth. My 
mink was certainly in this pile. So I let off a long halloa 
and got an answer from one of the boys, who left his trail 
and came to me within a few minutes. It happened that 
this one, Charlie, was carrying a bag with a ferret in it, that 



112 



The Book of Woodcraft 



we had brought in the hope that we might run to earth a 
rabbit; and this particular ferret was, like everything his 
owner had, "absolutely the best in Canada." He claimed 
that it could kill rats, six at a time; that it could drive 
a fox out of its hole; that it was not afraid of a coon; 
while a skunk or a mink was simply beneath its notice. 
I now suggested that this greatest of ferrets be turned 
in after the mink, while we watched around the pile of 
logs. 

I never did like a ferret. He is such an imp of murder 
incarnate. It always gives me the creeps to see the blood- 
thirsty brute, like a four-legged snake, dive into some hole. 



--25^ 




Skunk track 



/fn-J 



with death and slaughter as his job. I hate him; but, after 
all, there is something thrilling and admirable about his 
perfectly diabolical courage. How would one of us like 
to be sent alone into a dark cave, to find out and fight 
some unknown monster, much larger than ourselves, 
and able, for aught we know, to tear us into pieces in 
a moment! 

But the ferret never faltered ; he dived into the log laby- 
rinth. It was a small ferret and a big mink; I awaited 
anxiously. After a long silence, we saw our four-footed 
partner at the farther end, unruffled, calm and sinuous. 



General Scouting Outdoors 113 

Nothing had happened. We saw no mink, but I knew he 
was there. The ferretteer said, "It just proved what he 
had claimed — 'a mink was beneath his ferret's notice'!" 
Maybe? 

Now, we heard the shout of hunter No. 2. We answered. 
He came to us to say that, after faithfully following his 
skunk-trail leader for two hours, through forest, field and 
fen, he had lost it in a host of tracks in a ravine some half-a- 
mile away. 

So we gave our imdivided attention to skunk No. i, and 
in a few minutes had traced him to a hole, into which there 
led a multitude of trails, and from which there issued an 
odor whose evidence was beyond question. Again we 
submitted the case to our subterranean representative, and 
nothing loth the ferret glided down. But presently re- 
appeared, much as he went, undisturbed and unodorized. 
Again and again he was sent down, but with the same result. 
So at length we thrust him ignominiously into the bag. The 
ferret's owner said there was no skunk; the rest of us said 
there was, but that the ferret was "scared," "no good," etc. 
Then, a plan suggested itself for clearing or convicting that 
best of all ferrets. We plugged up the skunk hole, and went 
back to the house. It seemed that the youngest brother 
of one of my companions had a tiny pet dog, a toy, the 
darling of his heart — just such a dog as you read about; 
a most miserable, pampered, cross, ill-bred, useless and 
snarling little beast, about the size of a large rat. Prince 
was his name, for Abraham, his little master, never lost 
an opportunity of asserting that this was the prince of all 
dogs, and that his price was above rubies. But Prince had 
made trouble for Bob more than once, and Bob was ready 
to sacrifice Prince on the altar of science, if need be. Indeed, 
Satan had entered into Bob's heart and sketched there a 
olausible but wicked plan. So this boy set to work and 



114 The Book of Woodcraft 

coaxed Prince to leave the house, and beguiled him with 
soft words, so that he came with us to the skunk's den in 
the woods. It required but little encouragement, then, 
to get that aggressive Httle beast of a doglet to run into the 
hole and set about making himself disagreeable to its occu- 
pant. Presently, we were entertained with a succession of 
growlets and barklets, then a volley of howlets, followed by 
that awful smell — you know. 

Soon afterward. Prince reappeared, howling. For some 
minutes he did nothing but roll himself in the snow, rub 
his eyes and yell. So that after all, in spite of our ferret's 
evidence, there was a skunk in the hole, and the ferret had 
really demonstrated a vast discretion; in fact, was prob- 
ably the discreetest ferret in Canada. 

We had got good proof of that skimk's existence but we 
did not get him, and had to go home wondering how we 
should square ourselves for our sacrilege in the matter of 
the pet dog. It was Bob's job to explain, and no one tried 
to rob him of the glory. He began by sowing a few casual 
remarks, such as, "Pears to me there must be a skunk 
under the barn." Then, later, when Prince bounded in, 
"Phew! 'pears to me that there fool purp has been after 
that skunk!" 

Poor little Prince! It made him lose his nightly couch 
in Abraham's bosom and condemned him to be tubbed and 
scrubbed every day, and to sleep outdoors for a week. But 
he had his revenge on all of us; for he barked all night, 
and every night, under our windows. He couldn't sleep; 
why should we? And we didn't. 

Of course, this instance is given rather as a dreadful 
example of error than as a model for others. 

We got back from our hike that time with a lot of inter- 
esting wild animal experience, and yet you wiU note we 
did not see any wild animal all the time. 



General Scouting: Outdoors 1^5 

OLD WEATHER WISDOM 

When the dew is on the grass, 
Ram will never come to pass. 

When the grass is dry at night, 
Look for rain before the light. 

When grass is dry at morning Hght, 
Look for rain before the night. 

Three days' rain will empty any sky. 

A deep, clear sky of fleckless blue 
Breeds storms within a day or two. 

When the wind is in the east. 

It's good for neither man nor beast. 

When the wind is in the north. 

The old folk should not venture forth, 

When the wind is in the south, 

It blows the bait in the fishes' mouth. 

When the wind is in the west. 

It is of all the winds the best. 

An opening and a shetting 
Is a sure sign of a wetting. 

(Another version) 

Open and shet, 
Sure sign of wet. 

(Still another) 

It's lighting up to see to rain. 



"6 The Book of Woodcraft 



Evening red and morning gray 
Sends the traveler on his way. 
Evening gray and morning red 
Sends the traveler home to bed. 

Red sky at morning, the shepherd takes warning; 
Red sky at night is the shepherd's deUght. 

If the sun goes down cloudy Friday, sure of a clear Sun- 
day. 

If a rooster crows standing on a fence or high place, it will 
clear. If on the ground, it doesn't count. 

Between eleven and two 

You can tell what the weather is going to do. 

Rain before seven, clear before eleven. 

Fog in the morning, bright sunny day. 

If it rains, and the sun is shining at the same time, the 
devil is whipping hiy wife and it will surely rain to-morrow. 

If it clears off during the night, it will rain shortly again. 

Sun drawing water, sure sign of rain. 

A circle round the moon means " storm." As many stars 
as are in circle, so many days before it will rain. 

Sudden heat brings thunder. 

A storm that comes against the wind is always a thunder- 
storm. 

The oak and the ash draw lightning. Under the birch 
the cedar, and balsam you are safe. 

East wind brings rain. 

West wind brings clear, bright, cool weather. 

North wind brings cold. 

South wind brings heat. (On Atlantic coast.) 



General Scouting Outdoors ^^7 

The rain-crow or cuckoo (both species) is supposed by all 
hunters to foretell rain, when its "Kow, kow, kow" is long 
and hard. 

So, also, the tree-frog cries before rain. 

Swallows flying low is a sign of rain; high, of clearing 
weather. 

The rain follows the wind, and the heavy blast is just 
before the shower. 

OUTDOOR PROVERBS 

What weighs an ounce in the morning, weighs a pound 
at night. 
♦A pint is a pound the whole world round. 

Allah reckons not against a man's allotted time the days 
he spends in the chase. 

If there's only one, it isn't a track, it's an accident. 

Better safe than sorry. 

No smoke without fire. 

The bluejay doesn't scream without reason. 

The worm don't see nuffin pretty 'bout de robin's song. — 
(Darkey.) 

Ducks flying over head in the woods are generally pointed 
for water. 

If the turtles on a log are dry, they have been there half 
an hour or more, which means no one has been near to 
alarm them. 

Cobwebs across a hole mean "nothing inside." 

Whenever you are trying to be smart, you are going 
wrong. Smart Aleck always comes to grief. 

You are safe and winning, when you are trying to be 
kind. 



-"8 The Book of Woodcraft 



The Stars 



A settlement worker once said to me: "It's all very 
well talking of the pleasures of nature study, but what use 
is it to my little Italians and PoUsh Jews in the slums of 
New York? They get no chance to see the face of nature." 
"If they do not," I replied, "it is their own fault. They 
watch the pavements too much for coppers i they are forever 
looking down. To-night you ask them to look up. If the 
sky is clear, they will have a noble chance." 

Yes! the stars are the principle study for outdoors at 
night and above all in winter time; for not only are many of 
the woodcraft pursuits impossible now, but the nights are 
long, the sky is clear, and some of the most famous star- 
groups are visible to us only in winter. 

So far as there is a central point in our heavens, that 
point is the Pole Star — Polaris. Around this all the stars 

in the sky seem to turn once 

%. >■) in twenty-four hours. It is 

® '^^••-•.<»<:' easily discovered by the help 

•» 'A of the Pointers, or Dipper, 

"^ o» r\ known to every country boy 

^ ^. "^fott: in America. 

*' ^"^ Most of the star-groups are 

CUT I known by the names of hu- 

man figures or animals. The modern astronomers laugh 
at and leave out these figures in the sky; but we shall find 
it a great help to memory and interest if we revive and use 
them; but it is well to say now that it is not because the 
form of the group has such resemblance, but because there 
is some traditional association of the two. For example; 



General Scouting Outdoors 119 

The classical legend has it that the nymph Callisto, 
having violated her vow, was changed by Diana into a 
bear, which, after death was immortalized in the sky by 
Zeus. Another suggestion is that the earhest astronomers, 
the Chaldeans, called these stars "the shining ones," and 
their word happened to be very like the Greek Arktos 
(a bear). Another explanation (I do not know who is 
authority for either) is that vessels in olden days were 
named for animals, etc. They bore at the prow the carved 
effigy of their namesake, and if the "Great Bear,'' for 
example, made several very happy voyages by setting out 
when a certain constellation was in the ascendant, that 
constellation might become known as the Great Bear's 
Constellation. 

It is no doubt, because it is so conspicuous, that the Great 
Bear is the oldest of all the constellations, in a human 
historical sense. Although it has no resemblance to a 
Bear, the tail part has obvious resemblance to a Dipper, 
by which name it is known to most Americans. Therefore, 
because so well known, so easily pointed out, and so helpful 
in pointing out the other stars, this Dipper will be our 
starting point and shall prove our Key to the whole sky. 

If you do not know the Dipper, get some one who does 
to point it out; or look in the northern sky for the shape 
shown in Cut, remembering that it goes around the Pole 
Star every twenty-four hours, so that at different times 
it is seen at different places. 

Having found the Dipper, note carefully the two stars 
marked b and a; these, the outer rim of the Dipper bowl 
are called the Pointers, because they point to, or nearly 
to, the Pole Star; the latter being about three dipper rims 
(a d) away from the Dipper. 

Now, we have found the great Pole Star, which is called 
by Indians the "Star that never moves" and the "Home 



I20 The Book of Woodcraft 

Star." Note that it is in the end of the handle of a Little 
Dipper, or, as it is called, the Little Bear, Ursa minor; 
this Bear, evidently, of an extinct race, as bears, nowa- 
days, are not allowed such tails. 

Now, let us take another view of the Dipper. Its handle 
is really the tail of the Great Bear, also of the extinct long- 
tailed race. (Cut 2.) Note that it is composed of seven 
stars, hence its name, "The Seven Stars." Four of these 
are in the bowl and three in the handle; the handle is bent 
at the middle star, and this one is called Mizar. Just above 
Mizar is a tiny star called Alcor. Can you see Alcor? In 
all ages it has been considered a test of good eyesight to 
see this little star, even among the Indians. They call 
the big one the Old Squaw, and the little one the "pappoose 
on her back." Keep this in mind as a test. Can you 
see the pappoose? 

If I give you the Latin names of the stars and the scien- 
tific theories as to their densities and relations, you certainly 
will not carry much of it away. But let us see if the old 
animal stories of the sky are not a help. 

In Cut No. 2 of the Great Bear Hunt, for instance, you 
see the Dipper in the tail of the long-tailed Bear; and not 
only is this creature him ted, but in many other troubles. 
Thus, there is a swarm of flies buzzmg about his ear, and 
another on his flank below b of the Dipper. These swarms 
are really nebula or clusters of very small stars. 

Close below the Bear are two Hounds of Bootes in leash 
and in full pursuit of Ursa. They also have annoyances, 
for there is a swarm of flies at the ear of each. On Ursa's 
haunch are two areas that, according to the star maps, 
belong to the Hounds, so we must consider them the bites 
the hounds are going to take out. 

Last, and leading, is the great hunter "Bootes." If you 
follov/ the Dipper, that is, the Bear's tail, in a curve for 



General Scouting Outdoors 121 

the length of two tails, it will bring you to Arcturus, the 
wonderful star that the Bear hunter wears like a blazing 
jewel in his knee. 

Just above the head of Bootes is another well-known con- 
stellation, the Northern Crown. {Corona horealis.) This 
very small and very beautiful star-group has been called 
the "Diamond Necklace in the sky." because it looks like 



i 




CUT 2. Bootes Hunting the Great Bear 

a circle of jewels with one very large one in the middle of the 
string. The Indians call it the Camp Circle of the Gods. 

If you draw a line from the back rim of the Dipper 
through Mizar, that is, the star at the bend of the handle, 
and continue about the total length of the Dipper, it will 
touch the Crown. 

The step from the Crown to the Cross is natural, and is 
easy in the sky. If you draw a Hne up- 4^ 

ward from the middle of the Dipper i'*"* 

bowl, straight across the sky, about three *"' \ 
total Dipper lengths, until it meets the '•' y^^. 

Milky Way, you reach the Northern * 

Cross, which is also called Cygnus, the northern cross 



122 The Book of Woodcraft 

Swan. You note it is on the opposite side of the Pole Star 
from the Dipper, and about one and a half Dipper lengths 
from the Pole. 

One more easily kno-v\Ti group is now in sight, that is, 

Cassiopeia in her chair. It is exactly opposite the Big 

Dipper on the other side of the Pole 

r, v.--/ '*'"> Star, and about as far from the latter as 

\\ .. \ ''y^ the Big Dipper is, that is, the Big Dipper 

I'D \ ■*' and Cassiopeia balance each other; as 

\ ■• ^r ... ^"^-3;,. the one goes up, the other goes down. 

'•./^■..-'■■■-Tn(\ There is yet another famous constel- 

*/ • /'v-, {'\\\ \K^. lation that every one should know; and 

•^ /'.'•' '" ■' V^ \. that is " Orion, the great hunter, the Bull- 

CASsioPEiA fighter in the sky." During the summer, 

it goes on in day-time, but in winter it rises in the evening 

and passes over at the best of times to be seen. February 

is a particularly happy time for this wonder and splendor 

of the blue. 

If you draw a line from the inner rim of the Dipper, 
through the outer edge of the bottom, and continue it 
about two and a half total lengths of the Dipper, it will 
lead to the Star "Procyon" the ''Little Dogstar," the 
principal light of the constellation Canis minor. Below 
it, that is, rising later, is Sirius the "Great Dogstar," chief 
of the Constellation Canis major, and the most wonderful 
star in the sky. It is really seventy times as brilliant as the 
Sun, but so far away from us, that if the Sun's distance 
(92,000,000 mUes) be represented by one inch, the distance 
of Sirius would be represented by eight miles; and yet it is 
one of the nearest of the stars in the sky. If you see a star 
that seems bigger or brighter than Sirius, you may know 
it is not a star, but a planet, either Venus, Jupiter or Mars. 
Having located the Dogstar, it is easy to go farther to 
the southward, and recognize the Great Hunter Orion. The 



General Scouting Outdoors 123 

three Kings on his belt are among the most striking of all 
the famous stars in our blue dome. And, having found 
them, it is easy to trace the form of the Giant by the bright 
stars, Betelgeuse (orange), in his right shoulder, and Bella- 
trix in his left, Saiph in his right knee, and Rigel in his left 
foot. In his left hand he shakes the lion skin to bafifle the 
bull while his right swings the mighty club that seems al- 
ready to have landed on the bull's head, for the huge crea- 






ProC'J'n- 






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^^^ >-)J .- 





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3 Kmjs . /;j«/*:?y : 


,•' '♦ / v-"'/ 




'.■ .•■*.' . . .••'-• 


•:, .' /' A 




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f ••' .''t .'•►.*" 




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ORION 

ture's face is spotted all over with star-groups called the 
" Hyades." The wonderful red star, Aldebaran, is the Bull's 
right eye and the Pleiades are the arrow wounds in the 
Bull's shoulder. 

Serviss tells us that the Pleiades have a supposed 
connection with the Great Pyramid, because ''about 
2170 B. C, when the beginning of spring coincided 
with the culmination of the Pleiades at midnight, that 
wonderful group of stars was visible just at midnight, 



1^4 The Book of Woodcraft 

through the mysterious southward-pointing passage of the 
Pyramid." 

Out of Orion's left foot runs the River Eridanus, to 
wander over the sky; and, crouching for protection at the 
right foot of the Great Hunter, is Lepus the Hare. 

Now, how many constellations have you learned? In 
Woodcraft you need fifteen. This sounds hard but 
here you have already got seventeen, and I think will have 
little trouble in remembering them. 

And why should you do so? There are many reasons, and 
here is one that alone would, I think, make it worth while : 

An artist friend said to me once: "I am glad I learned 
the principal star groups when I was young. For my life 
has been one of wandering in far countries, yet, wherever 
I went, I could always look up and see something familiar 
and friendly, something that I knew in the dear bygone 
days of my boyhood's home, and something to guide me 
still." 

PLEIADES AS A TEST OF EYESIGHT 

This star group has always been considered a good test 
of eyesight. 

I once asked a group of boys in camp how many of the 
Pleiades they could count with the naked eye. A noisy, 
forward boy, who was nicknamed "Bluejay," because he 
was so fond of chattering and showing off, said, "Oh, I see 
hundreds." 

"Well, you can sit down," I said, "for you can do nothing 
of the kind." 

Another steadier boy said, "I believe I see six," and he 
proved that he did see them, for he mapped them out 
properly on a board with six pebbles. 

That boy had good eyes, because poor eyes see merely a 
haze, but another boy present had better eyes, for he saw, 



General Scouting Outdoors 125 

and proved that he saw, seven. This is considered first- 
class. The Indians as a rule see seven, because they call 
them the Seven Stars. But, according to Flammarion, it is 
possible to exceed this, for several persons have given 
proof that they distinguished ten Pleiades. This is almost 
the extreme of human eyesight. There is, however, 




The Pleiades as seen with the best of naked eyes 

according to the same authority, a record of thirteen 
Pleiades having been actually seen by the unaided human 
eye. 

The telescope reveals some 2,000 in the cluster. 

The Indians call them the "Seven Dancers," and tell a 
legend that seems to explain their dancing about the small- 
est one, as well as the origin of the constellation. 

Once there were seven little Indian boys, who used to 
take their bowl of succotash each night and eat their 
suppers together on a mound outside the village. Six 
were about the same size, one was smaller than the rest, 
but he had a sweet voice, and knew many songs, so after 
supper the others would dance around the mound to his 
singing, and he marked time on his drum. 

When the frosty days of autumn were ending, and winter 



126 The Book o! Woodcraft 

threatened to stop the nightly party, they said, "Let us 
ask our parents for some venison, so we can have a grand 
feast and dance for the last time on the mound." 

They asked, but all were refused. Each father said, 
"When I was a Httle boy, I thought myself lucky to get 
even a pot of succotash, and never thought of asking for 
venison as well." 

So the boys assembled at the mound. All were gloomy 
but the little singer, who said : 

" Never mind, brothers ! We shall feast without venison, 
and we shall be merry just the same, for I shall sing you 
a new song that will lighten your hearts." 

First, he made each of them fasten on his head a little 
torch of birch bark, then he sat down in the middle and 
thumped away at his Uttle drum and sang: 

Ki yi yi yah 
Ki yi yi yah 

And faster 

Ki yi yi yah 
Ki yi yi yah 

And faster still, till now they were spinning round. 
Then: 

Ki yi yi yah 

Ki yi yi yah 
Whoooooop 

They were fairly whirling now, and, as the singer gave 
this last whoop of the last dance on the mound, they and he 
went dancing over the treetops into the sky; light of heart 
and heels and head, they went, and their parents rushed 
out in time to see them go, but too late to stop them. And 
now you may see them every clear autumn night as winter 
draws near; you may see the little torches sparkling as they 



General Scouting Outdoors 127 

dance, the six around the Httle one in the middle. Of 
course, you can't hear his song, or even his drum, but you 
must remember he is a long way off now. 

There is another story of a Uttle Indian girl called 
Two-Bright-Eyes. She was the only child of her parents. 
She wandered away one evening seeking the whippoorwill 
and got lost — you see, even Indians get lost sometimes. 
She never returned. The mourning parents never learned 
what became of her, but they thought they saw a new pair 
of twin stars rising through the trees not long after, and 
when their grief was so softened by time that they could 
sing about it, this is the song they made about their loss : 

THE TWIN STARS 

Two-Bright-Eyes went wandering out 

To chase the whippoorwill. 
Two-Bright-Eyes got lost, and left 

Our teepee, oh, so still! 

Two-Bright-Eyes was lifted up 

To sparkle in the skies, 
And look like stars, but we know well 

That that's our lost Bright-Eyes. 

She is looking for the camp, 

She would come back if she could; 

She is peeping thro' the trees to find 
The teepee in the wood. 

The Planets 

The stars we see are suns like our Sun, giving out light 
to worlds that go around them as our world goes around our 
Sun; as these worlds do not give out Ught, and are a long 



128 The Book of Woodcraft 

way off, we cannot see them. But around our own 
Sun are several worlds besides ours. They are very 
near to us, and we can see them by the reflected 
light of the Sun. These are called "planets" or 
"wanderers," because, before their courses were under- 
stood, they seemed to wander about, all over the sky, 
unlike the fixed stars. 

They are so close to us that their distance and sizes are 
easily measured. They do not twinkle. 

There are eight, in all, not counting the small Planetoids; 
but only those as large as stars of the first magnitude 
concern us. They are here in order of nearness to the 
Sun: 

1. MERCURY is always close to the Sun, so that it is 
usually lost in the glow of the twilight or of the vapors 
of the horizon, where it shows like a globule of quicksilver. 
It has phases and quarters Uke the Moon. It is so hot 
there "that a Mercurian would be frozen to death in Africa 
or Senegal" (Flammarion) . 

2. VENUS. The brightest of all the stars is Venus; far 
brighter than Sirius. It is the Morning Star, the Evening 
Star, the Shepherd's Star, and yet not a star at all, but a 
planet. It has phases and quarters like the Moon. You 
can place it only with the help of an almanac. 

3. THE EARTH. 

4. MARS. The nearest of the other worlds to us. It 
is a fiery-red planet. It has phases like the Moon. 

5. JUPITER, like a very large star of the first magni- 
tude, famous for its five moons, and really the largest of 
the planets. 

6. SATURN, noted for its rings, also like a very large 
star of the first magnitude. 

7. URANUS and (8) NEPTUNE, are too small for 
observation without a telescope. 



General Scouting Outdoors 



129 



THE MOON 

The Moon is one fifth the diameter of the Earth, about 
one fiftieth of the bulk, and is about a quarter million 
miles away. Its course, while very irregular, is nearly the 
same as the apparent course of the Sun. But "in winter 
the full Moon is at an altitude in the sky near the limit 
attained by the Sun in summer, . . . and even, at 
certain times, five degrees higher. It is the contrary in 
summer, a season when the Moon remains very low" (F.). 

The Moon goes around the Earth in twenty-seven and a 
quarter days. It loses nearly three quarters of an hour 
each night; that is, it rises that much later. 

''Astronomy \vith an Opera Glass." Garrett P. Ser^dss, 
D. Appleton & Co., New York City. Price, $1.50. 



MAKING A DAM 



When I was a boy we had no natural swimming pool, 
but there was a small stream across our farm; and I with 
my two friends succeeded in making a pool, partly by dam- 




Ti Show 

f r»tn£ of Bam- 



ming up the little stream, and partly by digging out the 
place above the dam. 

The first things needed were two logs long enough to 



i30 



The Book of Woodcraft 



reach from bank to bank. These we placed across with 
the help of the team, and fixed them firmly three feet apart. 
Inside of each and tight against it we drove a row of strong 
stakes leaving a gap or sluiceway for the water to run until 

the rest of the dam was finished. 
This cribbing we now filled 
with clay dug out of the bed 
of the brook above the dam. 
Hammering it down hard, and 
covering the top with flat stones. 
Finally we closed up the sluice- 
way with stakes and clay like the rest of it, and in one 
night the swimming hole filled up. Next morning there 
was a little cataract over the low place I had purposely left 
for an overflow. The water was four feet deep and many 
of us there learned to swim. 




WHEN LOST IN THE WOODS 

If you should miss your way, the first thing to remember 
is, hke the Indian, ''You are not lost; it is the teepee that 
is lost." It isn't serious. It cannot be so, unless you do 
something foolish. 

The first and most natural thing to do is to get on a hill, 
up a tree, or other high lookout, and seek for some 
landmark near the camp. You may be so sure of these 
things: 

You are not nearly as far from camp as you think you are. 

Your friends will soon find you. 

You can help them best by signaling. 

The worst thing you can do is to get frightened. The 
truly dangerous enemy is not the cold or the hunger, so 
much as the fear. It is fear that robs the wanderer of his 
judgment and of his limb power; it is fear that turns the 



General Scouting Outdoors 131 

passing experience into a final tragedy. Only keep cool 
and all will be well. 

If there is snow on the ground, you can follow your back 
track. 

If you see no landmark, look for the smoke of the fire. 
Shout from time to time, and wait; for though you have 
been away for hours it is quite possible you are within 
earshot of your friends. If you happen to have a gun, fire 
it off twice in quick succession on your high lookout then 
wait and listen. Do this several times and wait plenty 
long enough, perhaps an hour. If this brings no help, 
send up a distress signal — that is, make two smoke fires 
by smothering two bright fires with green leaves and rotten 
wood, and keep them at least fifty feet apart, or the wind 
will confuse them. Two shots or two smokes are usually 
understood to mean "I am in trouble." Those in camp on 
seeing this should send up one smoke, which means " Camp 
is here." 

In a word, "keep cool, make yourself comfortable, leave 
a record of your travels, and help your friends to find you." 

INDIAN TWEEZERS 

Oftentimes, a camper may need a pair of tweezers or 
forceps to pull out a thorn or catch some fine end. If he 
happens to be without the real thing, he can supply the 
place with those of Indian style — these are simply a 
small pair of clam-shells, with edges clean and hinge un- 
broken. 

The old-time Indians had occasionally a straggly 
beard. They had no razor, but they managed to do 
without one. As a part of their toilet for special oc- 
casion they pulled out each hair by means of the clam- 
shell nippers. 



132 



The Book of Woodcraft 



A HOME-MADE COMPASS 

If you happen to have a magnet, it is easy to make a 
compass. Rub a fine needle on the magnet; then on the 
side of your nose. Then lay it gently on the surface of a 
cup full of water. The needle will float and point north. 

The cup must not be of metal. 



AN INDIAN CLOCK, SHADOW CLOCK OR SUNDIAL 

To make an Indian shadow clock or sundial, prepare 
a smooth board about fifteen inches across, with a circle 

divided by twenty-four 



rays into equal parts. 
Place it on a level, solid 
post or stump in the 
open. At night set the 
dial so that the twelve 
o'clock line points ex- 
actly north, as deter- 
mined by the Pole Star 
and nail it down. Then, 
fix a stick or pointer 
with its upper edge on 
the centre and set it 
exactly pointing to the 
Pole Star (a b) ; that is, 
the same angle as the 
latitude of the place, 
and fix it there immov- 
ably; it may be necessary to cut a notch (c) in the board 
to permit of a sight line. The hours eight at night to four 
next morning may as well be painted black. As a time- 
piece, this shadow clock will be found roughly correct. 




General Scouting Outdoors i33 

The Indians of course used merely the shadow of a tree, 
or the sun streak that fell on the lodge floor through the 
smoke opening. 

LIGHTS 

For camp use, there is nothing better than the Stone- 
bridge folding lantern, with a good supply of candles. A 
temporary torch can readily be made of a roll of birch bark, 
a pine knot, or some pine-root slivers, in a spUt stick of 
green wood. 

hunter's lamp 

A fairly steady hght can be made of a piece of cotton 
cloth or twisted rag, stuck in a clam-shell full of oil or 
melted grease. An improvement is easily made by putting 
the cotton wick through a hole in a thin, flat stone, which 
sets in the grease and holds the wick upright. 

Another improvement is made by using a tin in place of 
the shell. It makes a steadier lamp, as well as a much 
larger hght. This kind of a lamp enjoys wide use and has 
some queer names, such as slot-lamp, grease-jet, hunter's 
lamp, etc. (See Cut on next page.) 

woodman's lantern 

When nothing better is at hand, a woodman's lantern can 
be made of a tomato can. Make a big hole in the bottom for 
the candle, and punch the sides full of small holes, prefer- 
ably from the inside. If you have a wire to make a hanger, 
well and good; if not, you can carry it by the bottom. 
This lets out enough hght and will not go out in the wind. 
If you want to set it down, you must make a hole in the 
ground for the candle, or if on a table, set it on two blocks. 
(Cut on next page.) 



134 



The Book of Woodcraft 



Another style is described in a recent letter from 
Hamlin Garland: 

"Apropos of improved camp lights, I had a new one 'sprung 
on me,' this summer: A forest ranger and I were visiting a 
miner, about a mile from our camp. It came on dark, pitch 
dark, and when we started home, we could not follow the trail. 





^ M d ,[ 







O^W 



It was windy as well as dark, and matches did very little good. 
So back we went to the cabin. The ranger then picked up an 
old tomato can, punched a hole in the side, thrust a candle up 
through the hole, lighted it, and took the can by the disk which 
had been cut from the top. The whole thing was now a boxed 
light, shining ahead like a searchlight, and the wind did not 
affect it at all! I've been camping, as you know, for thirty 
years, but this little trick was new to me. Perhaps it is new to 
you." H. G. 

Still another style, giving a better light, is made by 



General Scouting Outdoors 



135 



heating an ordinary clear glass quart bottle pretty hot in the 
fire, then dipping the bottom part in cold water; this causes 
the bottom to crack off. The candle is placed in the neck, 
flame inside, and the bottle neck sunk in the ground. 



CAMP LOOM AND GRASS MATS 

The chief use of the camp loom is to weave mats for the 
beds of grass, straw, hay, or, best of all, sedge. I have 
made it thus: 



11 1 i 1 m' 




A 3-foot cross-bar A is fast to a small tree, and 
seven feet away, even stakes are driven into the ground 
8 inches apart, each 3 feet out of the ground. 

Five stout cords are tied to each stick, and to the cross- 
bar, keeping them parallel. Then, between each on the 
cross-bar is attached another cord (four in all) the far end 
of which is made fast to a loose cross-bar, B. 

One fellow raises the loose cross-bar B, while another 
lays a long bundle of grass tight in the corner C. Then B 
is lowered to D, and another roll of grass or sedge is tucked 



136 The Book of Woodcraft 

in on the under side of the stake cords. Thus the bundles 
are laid one above and one below, until the mat is of the 
the required length. The cords are then fastened, the 
cross-bars removed, and the mat, when dried, makes a 
fine bed. When added to the willow bed, it is pure lux- 
ury; but lawful, because made of wildwood material. 

NAVAHO LOOM 

A profitable amusement in camp, is weaving rugs or 
mats of inner bark, rags, etc., on a rough Navaho loom. 

The crudest kind, one which can be made in an hour is il- 
lustrated on next page. I have found it quite satisfactor}- 
for weaving rough mats or rugs. {A and B) are two trees or 
posts. (C) is the cross piece. (D) is the upper yarn- 
beam, wrapped its whole length with a spiral cord. (E) is 
the lower yarn-beam, similarly wrapped. {F F) are stout 
cords to carry the frame while the warp is being stretched 
between the yarn-beams. {G G) is a log hung on for 
weight. {H H) is a round stick fastened between the 
yarns, odds on one side, evens on the other, to hold the 
yarns open until the rug is all done, but about one inch 
when it is drawn out. 

Now with a needle, the yarns or strings for the 
warp are stretched from one yarn-beam to another, 
as a continuous string. The exact method is shown 
on a larger scale in the upper figure (/ /) The 
batten or spreader (/) is a piece of light wood two 
inches wide and one half inch thick, with square edges, 
but thin sharp point, and about as long as the yarn 
beam. 

Now we are ready to begin. Run the batten between 
the yarns under the sticks {E H.) Then drop it to the 
bottom and turn it flatwise, thus spreading the yarns apart 



General Scouting Outdoors 



137 



in two rows. Lay a line of soft bark, rags, or other woof 
in this opening on top of the batten, making sure that it 
projects a couple of inches at each end. Double these 
long ends around the strong cords {F F) then back along 
themselves. Now draw out the spreading batten and press 
the woof down tight. 




Run the batten through alternate threads again, but 
the reverse way of last, and this time it goes more slowly 
for the lack of a guide rod.* Lay a new line of woof as 



•This is done much more quickly by help of a heald-rod, that is, a horizontal stick as 
wide as the blanket, with every other strand of the warp loosely looped to it by a running 
cord near the top. When this rod is pulled forward it reverses the set of the threads ana 
allows the batten to drop in at once. 



138 The Book of Woodcraft 

above. When the rug is all finished except the top inch 
or more, draw out the rod {H H) and fill the warp to the 
top. 

Finally cut and draw out the spiral cords on each 
yarn-beam. This frees the rug, which is finished, 
excepting for trim and binding, when such are de- 
sired. 

Those who want full details of the best Navaho looms 
and methods will find them in Dr. Washington Matthew's 
article on Navaho Weavers, 3d Annual Report, Bur. of 
Ethnology, 1881-2. Washington 1884. 

CAMP RAKE 

A camp rake is made of forked branches of oak, beech, 
hickory, or other hard wood, thus: Cut a handle an inch 




thick {B C) and 4 feet long, of the shape shown. Flatten it 
on each side of A , and make a gimlet-hole through. Now 
cut ten branches of the shape Z)£,each about 20 inches long. 
Flatten them at the E end, and make a gimlet-hole through 
each. Fasten all together, 5 on each side of the handle, 



General Scouting Outdoors 



139 



as in F, with a long nail or strong wire through all the holes; 
then, with a cord, lash them together, spacing them by 
putting the cord between. Sharpen the points of the teeth, 
and your rake is ready. 



CAMP BROOM 



There are two ways of making a camp broom. First, the 
twig broom. This is easily made as follows: Cut a handle 




an inch thick, and shape it to a shoulder, as in ^ 5 C. 
Lash on birch or other fine twigs, one layer at a time, until 
sufficiently thick, as D E. Now at F, put a final lashing of 
cord. This draws the broom together, and binds it firmly 
to the handle. Trim the ends even with the axe, and it is 
ready for use. 

The other style is the backwoods broom. This was 
usually made of blue-beech or hickory. A 4-foot piece of a 
4-inch green trunk is best. Slivers 18 inches long are 



140 



The Book of Woodcraft 



cut down, left attached at /, and bent back over the end 
until there is a bunch of them thick enough; when they are 
bound together viith a cord and appear as in K. Now thin 
down the rest of the handle L M, and the broom needs only 
a little drying out to be finished. 



BUILDING A BOAT 



Most camp sites are selected with a view to boating; 
certainly no camp is complete without it. 

Winter is a good time to build a boat, if you have a 
workshop big enough to hold it. 




The simplest kind of a craft is the best to start with. 
Get two boards, smooth and with as few knots as possible, 
15 in. wide, and 15 ft. long; about 50 sq. ft. of tongue 
and groove flooring; a piece of 2 x 6 in. scantling, 15 
in. long; and plenty of 3-in. nails. 

Begin by beveling the stem post to an edge (a). Set 



General Scouting Outdoors I4' 

this on the ground and nail two of the boards to it, one on 
each side (b). 

At a point about 7 feet from the bow, put in a temporary 
cross piece 3I ft. long (c), which can have the ends either 
plumb, or spreading wider toward the top. 

Around this, bend the two side boards till their stern 
ends are but 3 ft. apart. Nail on an end piece (d e) to hold 
them there. 

Now cut a strip of i x 2 in. stuff, and nail it inside 
along the lower edge of the side board, so as to give a double 
thickness on which to nail the bottom. 

Turn the boat upside down and nail on the tongue and 
groove stuff to form the bottom. 

Now, turn her over, remove the shaping board, put 
in the necessary stern and mid seats (see dotted lines), 
nail on a piece of board to double the thickness where 
the rowlocks are needed — each about 1 2 inches abaft the 
mid seat, add rowlocks, and the carpenter work is done. 

Tar all the seams, caulking any that are gaping, and 
when the tar has set, paint her inside and out. As soon as 
this is dry, she is ready for the water. 

She may leak a little at first, but the swelling of the wood 
has a tendency to close the seams. 

This is the simplest form of boat. Great improvement 
can be made by making the sides deeper, and cutting the 
lower edge so that the bottom rises at bow and stern, also 
by setting the stem or bow-post at an angle, and finally by 
adding a keel. 

If you cannot get a 15-in. board, use two or more narrow 
ones. Their joints can be made tight by caulking. 

A DUGOUT CANOE 

Basswood, tulip wood, and white pine were the favorite 
woods for a dugout canoe, though no one made one when 



H^ The Book of Woodcraft 

they could get birch bark. The method of making was 
simple but laborious. Cut your log to the exact shape 
desired on the outside, then drive into it, all along the side, 
thin wire nails, an inch long, so that there should be one 
every two feet along the side, and more on the bottom. 
Now, hollow out the inside with adze or axe, till the nail 
points are reached. Sometimes longer nails were used for 
the bottom. The wood at bow and stern was, of course, 
much thicker. 



CAMP HORN 

I wish every Camp would get a good camp horn or 
Michigan lumberman's horn. It is about four feet long, 
has a six-inch bell-mouth, and is of brass. Its sounds are 
made by mouth, but a good player can give a tune as on a 
post horn. Its quality is wonderfully rich, mellow and far- 
reaching, and it can be heard for three or four miles. It is 
a sound to stir the echoes and fill the camp with romantic 
memories. 

SLEEP OUTDOORS 

As you drive through New England in the evening, 
summer or winter, you must notice a great many 
beds out of doors, on piazza or on sun-deck. Many of 
these are beds of persons who are suffering from lung 
trouble. They have found out that this is the way to cure 
it. Some of them are the beds of persons who fear lung 
trouble, and this they know is the way to evade it. 

Take, then, this lesson: If possible, every brave should 
sleep out of doors as much as possible; not on the ground, and 
not in the wind, but in a bed, warm, dry, and rainproof, and 
he will be the better for it. 



General Scouting Outdoors i43 

THE GEE-STRING CAMP 

Whenever complete isolation from summer resorts or 
mixed company make it permissible, we have found it well 
to let the fellows run all day during warm weather, clad 
only in their shoes and their small bathing trunks, breech- 
clout or gee-string. This is the Gee-String or Indian Camp. 
Its value as a daily sun bath, a continual tonic and a 
mentally refreshing hark back to the primitive, cannot be 
overestimated. 



VIL Signaling and Indian Signs 

Sign Language 

DO YOU know the Sign Language? 
If not, do you realize that the Sign Language is 
an established mode of communication in all parts 
of the world without regard to native speech? 

Do you know that it is so refined and complete that ser- 
mons and lectures are given in it every day, to those who 
cannot hear? 

Do you know that it is as old as the hills and is largely 
used in all public schools? And yet when I ask boys this 
question, "Do you use the Sign Language?" they nearly 
always say "No." 

The first question of most persons is "What is it? " It is 
a simple method of asking questions and giving answers, 
that is talking, by means of the hands. It is used by all the 
Plains Indians, and by thousands of white people to-day, in 
cities, as well as in the western country, and to an extent 
that surprises all when first they come to think of it. 

Not long ago I asked a boy whether the policemen on the 
crowded streets used Sign Language. He said, "No!" at 
least he did not know if they did. 

I replied: "When the officer on Fifth Avenue wishes to 
stop all vehicles, what does he do?" 

"He raises his hand, flat with palm forward," was the 
reply. 

H4 



Signaling and Indian Signs I45 

"Yes, and when he means 'come on,' what does he do?'"' 

"He beckons this way." 

"And how does he say 'go left, go right, go back, come, 
hurry up, you get out?' " Each of these signs I found was 
well known to the boy. 

The girls are equally adept and equally unconscious of it. 

One very shy little miss — so shy that she dared not 
speak — furnished a good illustration of this : 

"Do you use the Sign Language in your school? " I asked. 

She shook her head. 

"Do you learn any language but English?" 

She nodded. 

"What is the use of learning any other than English?" 

She raised her right shoulder in the faintest possible shrug. 

"Now," was my reply, "don't you see you have already 
given me three signs of the Sign Language, which you said 
you did not use?" 

After collecting popular signs for several years I found 
that I had about one hundred and fifty that are in estab- 
lished use in the schools of New York City. 

Here are some of the better known. Each boy will 
probably find that he has known and used them all his 
schooldays : 

You (pointing at the person); 

Me (pointing at one's self); 

Yes (nod); 

No (head shake); 

Go (move hand forward, palm first); 

Come (draw hand toward one's self, palm in) ; 

Hurry (same, but the hand quickly and energetically 
moved several times); 

Come for a moment (hand held out back down, fingers 
>;losed except first, which is hooked and straightened 
quickly several times); 



H^ The Book of Woodcraft 

Stop (one hand raised, flat; palm forward); 

Gently or Go easy (like "stop," but hand gently waved 
from side to side); 

Good-bye (hand high, flat, palm down, fingers wagged 
all together); 

Up (forefinger pointed and moved upward); 

Down (ditto downward) ; 

Silence or hush (forefinger across lips) ; 

Listen (flat hand behind ear); 

Whisper (silently move lips, holding flat hand at one 
side of mouth); 

Friendship (hands clasped); 

Threatening (fist shaken at person); 

Warning (forefinger gently shaken at a slight angle 
toward person); 

He is cross (forefinger crossed level); 

Shame on you (right forefinger drawn across left toward 
person several times); 

Scorn (turning away and throwing an imaginary handful 
of sand toward person); 

Insolent defiance (thumb to nose tip, fingers fully 
spread) ; 

Surrender (both hands raised high and flat to show no 
weapons) ; 

Crazy (with forefinger make a Httle circle on forehead 
then point to person) ; 

Look there (pointing); 

Applause (silently make as though clapping hands); 

Victory (one hand high above head as though waving 
hat) ; 

Indifference (a shoulder shrug); 

Ignorance (a shrug and headshake combined) ; 

Pay (hand held out half open, forefinger and thumb 
rubbed together); 



Signaling and Indian Signs I47 

Poverty (both hands turned flat forward near trouser 
pockets) ; 

Bribe (hand held hollow up behind the back) ; 

Knife (first and second fingers of right hand used as to 
whittle first finger of left); 

/ am thinking it over (forefinger on right brow and eyes 
raised) ; 

/ forgot (touch forehead with all right finger tips, then 
draw flat hand past eyes once and shake head) ; 

/ send you a kiss (kiss finger tips and move hand in 
graceful sweep toward person); 

The meal was good (pat stomach) ; 

/ beg of you (flat hands tight together and upright) ; 

Upon my honor (with forefinger make a cross over heart) ; 

Bar up, fins, or / claim exemption (cross second finger of 
right hand on first finger and hold hand up) ; 

Give me (hold out open flat hand pulling it back a little 
to finish); 

/ give you (the same, but push forward to finish) ; 

Give me my bill (same, then make motion of writing) ; 

Get up (raise flat hand sharply, palm upward) ; 

Sit down (drop flat hand sharply, palm down); 

Rub it out (quickly shake flat hand from side to side, 
palm forward); 

Thank you ( a slight bow, smile and hand-salute, made 
by drawing flat hand a few inches forward and downward 
palm up); 

Do you think me simple? (forefinger laid on side of nose) ; 

Will you? or, is it so? (eyebrows raised and slight bow 
made) ; 

Will you come swimming? (first and second fingers raised 
and spread, others closed); 

Also of course, the points of the compass, and the numer- 
als up to twenty or thirty. 



148 The Book of Woodcraft 

My attention was first directed to the Sign Language in 
1882, when I went to live in western Manitoba. There I 
found it used among the Crees and Sioux, the latter especi- 
ally being expert sign-talkers. Later, I found it a daily 
necessity for travel among the natives of New Mexico and 
Montana. 

One of the best sign talkers I ever met was the Crow In- 
dian, White Swan, who had been one of Custer's Scouts. 
He was badly wounded by the Sioux, clubbed on the head, 
and left for dead. He recovered and escaped; but ever 
after was deaf and dumb. However sign talk was familiar 
to all his people and he was at little disadvantage in day- 
time. From him I received many lessons in Sign Language 
and thus in 1897 began to study it seriously. 

Now I wish to teach it to the Scouts. If each of them 
would learn to use with precision the one hundred and fifty 
schoolboy signs and then add twice as many more, they 
would become fairly good sign-talkers. These additional 
signs they can find in the "Dictionary of the Sign 
Language."* 

Why should you talk the Sign Language? There are 
many reasons: 

In this code you can talk to any other Scout, without a 
outsider knowing or understanding. 

It makes conversation easy in places when you must not 
speak aloud, as in school, during music, or by the bedside of 
the sick. 

It is a means of far-signaling much quicker than sema- 
phore or other spelling codes, for this gives one or more 
words in one sign. 

It will enable you to talk when there is too much noise 
to be heard, as across the noisy streets. 

•Issued by Doubleday, Page & Co. 



Signaling and Indian Signs i49 

It makes it possible to talk to a deaf person. 

It is a wonderful developer of observation. 

It is a simple means of talking to an Indian or a Scout of 
another nationality whose language you do not understand. 
This indeed is its great merit. It is universal. It deals not 
with words but with ideas that are common to all mankind. 
It is therefore a kind of Esperanto already established. 

So much for its advantages; what are its weaknesses? 
Let us frankly face them: 

It is useless in the dark; 

It will not serve on the telephone; 

It can scarcely be written; 

In its pure form it will not give new proper names. 

To meet the last two we have expedients, as will be seen, 
but the first two are insurmountable difficulties. 

Remember then you are to learn the Sign Language be- 
cause it is silent, far-reaching, and the one universal language. 

Since it deals fundamentally with ideas, we avoid words 
and letters, but for proper names it is very necessary to 
know the one-hand manual alphabet, 

For numbers we use the fingers, as probably did the ear- 
liest men who counted. 

Yes. The sign for "yes" is so natural that one can see 
it instinctively made if we offer food to a hungry baby. 
That is simply a nod. That is if you are near, but far off, 
make your right hand with all fingers closed except index 
and thumb which are straight and touching at top, advance, 
bend toward the left side as though bowing, then returned 
and straight again. 

No. This also is a natural sign, we can see it if we offer 
bitter medicine to a baby. The sign for "No," when near, 
is shake the head ; but, when too far for that to be seen, hold 
the closed right hand in front of the body, then sweep it 



ISO The Book of Woodcraft 




Signaling and Indian Signs 151 










^.- C 




K2 



The Book of Woodcraft 



outward and downward, at the same time turn the palm up 
as though throwing something away. 

Query. The sign for Question — that is, ''I am asking 
you a question," "I want to know " — is much used and 
important. Hold up the right hand toward the person, 
palm forward, fingers open, slightly curved and spread. 
Wave the hand gently by wrist action from side to side. 
It is used before, and sometimes after all questions. If you 
are very near, merely raise the eyebrows. 

The following are needed in asking questions: 

How Many? First the Question sign, then hold the left 
hand open, curved, palm 
up, finjjers spread, then 
with right digit quickly tap 
each finger of left in sue- / '■: 
cession, closing it back ; : 
toward the left palm, begin- ; ' 
ning with the little finger. \ 

How Much? Same as 
How many? 

What? What are you 
doing? What do you 
want? What is it? First 
give Question, then hold 
right hand palm down, fin- 
gers slightly bent and separated, and, pointing forward, 
throw it about a foot from right to left several times, 
describing an arc upward. 

When? If seeking a definite answer as to length of time, 
]nake signs for Question, How much, and then specify time 
by sign for hours, days, etc. When asking in general "Wheti" 
for a date, hold the left index extended and vertical, other 
and thumb closed, make a circle round left index tip with 
tip of extended right index, others and thumb closed; and 




QUERY SIGN 



Signaling and Indian Signs ^53 

when the index reaches the starting point, stop it and point 
at tip of left index (what point of shadow?) . 

Where? (What direction) Question, then with forefinger 
sweep the horizon in a succession of bounds, a slight pause 
at the bottom of each. 

Which? Question, then hold left hand in front of you 
with palm toward you, fingers to right and held apart; place 
the end of the right forefinger on that of left forefinger, and 
then draw it down across the other fingers. 

Why? Make the sign for Question, then repeat it very 
slowly. 

Who? Question, and then describe with the right fore- 
finger a small circle six inches in front of the mouth. 

Eat. Throw the flat hand several times past the mouth 
in a curve. 

Drink. Hold the right hand as though holding a cup 
near the mouth and tip it up. 

Sleep. Lay the right cheek on the right flat hand. 

My, mine, yours, possession, etc. Hold out the closed 
fist, thumb up, and swing it down a little so thumb points 
forward. 

House. Hold the flat hands together like a roof. 

Finished or done. Hold out the flat left hand palm to the 
right, then with flat right hand chop down past the ends of 
the left fingers. 

Thus "Will you eat?" would be a Question, you eat, but 
Have you eaten would be, Question, you eat, finished. 

Way or road. Hold both flat hands nearly side by side, 
palms up, but right one nearer the breast, then alternately 
Hf t them forward and draw them back to indicate track or 
feet traveling. 

The Indian had much use for certain signs in describing 
the white trader. The first was: 

Liar. Close the right hand except the first and second 



154 



The Book of Woodcraft 



SIGN FOR 
VERY MUCH 



fingers; these are straight and spread; bring the knuckles 
of the first finger to the mouth, then pass it down forward 
to the left, meaning double or forked tongue. 

The second sign, meaning ''''liery^^ or ''''very much^'' is made 
by striking the right fist down past the knuckles of the left 
without quite touching them, the left being held still. 

Another useful sign is time. This is made by drawing a 
circle with the right forefinger on the back of the left wrist. 
It looks like a reference 
to the wrist watch, but 
it is certainly much 
older than that style of 
timepiece and probably 
refers to the shadow of 
a tree. Some prefer to 
draw the circle on the 
left palm as it is held up 
facing forward. 

If you wish to ask, 
' ' What time is it? " You 
make the signs Question, then Time. 
" Three o'clock," you would signal: 

Time and hold up three fingers of the right hand. 

Hours are shown by laying the right forefinger as a 
pointer on the flat palm of the left and carrying it once 
around; minutes by moving the pointer a very little to the 
left. 

If you wish to signal in answer 3:15. You give the signs 
for hours 3 and minutes 15. Holding all ten fingers up for 
10, then those of one hand for 5. 

It takes a good-sized dictionary to give all the signs in 
use, and a dictionary you must have, if you would become 
an expert. 

I shall conclude with one pretty little Indian sign : First, 




If the answer is 



Signaling and Indian Signs 155 

give the Question sign, then make an incomplete ring of your 
right forefinger and thumb, raise them in a sweep until 
above your head, then bring the ring straight down to your 
heart. This is the Indian way of asking, "Is the sun shin- 
ing in your heart?" — that is, "Are you happy?" — your 
answer will, I hope, be made by the right hand and arm 
standing up straight, then bowing toward the left, followed 
by a sharp stroke of the right fist knuckles past those of the 
left fist without their touching, which means "Yes, the sun 
shines in my heart heap strong." 

PICTURE-WRITING 

The written form of Sign Language is the picture-writing 
also called Pictography, and Ideography, because it repre- 
sents ideas and not words or letters. It is widely believed 
that Sign Language is the oldest of all languages; that in- 
deed it existed among animals before man appeared on earth. 
It is universally accepted that the ideography is the oldest 
of all writing. The Chinese writing for instance is merely 
picture-writing done with as few lines as possible. 

Thus, their curious character for '^Hearing" was once 
a complete picture of a person listening behind a screen, 
but in time it was reduced by hasty hands to a few 
scratches; and "War," now a few spider marks, was origi- 
nally a sketch of "two women in one house." 

To come a little nearer home, our alphabet is said to be 
descended from hieroglyphic ideographs. 

"A" or "Ah," for example, was the sound of an ox repre- 
sented first by an outHne of an ox, then of the head, which 
in various modifications, through rapid writing, became 
our "A." 

"O" was a face saying "Oh," now simplified into the 
round shape of the mouth. 



15^ The Book of Woodcraft 

"S" was a serpent hissing. It is but little changed to- 
day. 

We may also record our Sign Language in picture-writing, 
as was the custom of many Indian tribes, and we shall find 
it worth while for several reasons: It is the Indian special 
writing; it is picturesque and useful for decoration; and it 
can be read by any Indian no matter what language he 

SOMl InI>IAnScQVT PlCT0aKAPH5 

Sunrise «n« sun or d»j sy»i-'^5'et Moon ovn)o»illi f^^^ 

speaks. Indeed, I think it probable that a pictograph 
inscription dug up 10,000 years from now would be read, 
whether our language was understood or not. When the 
French Government set up the Obelisk of Luxor in Paris and 
wished to inscribe it for all time, they made the record, not 
in French or Latin, but in pictographs. 



IktNnU imx Tkvn4i.r] if Sunittj 

■maun I ('S(C 



.^.. f.,. + 



vi. "b viii^ ^^- m^ 



en. trvL 






It is, moreover, part of my method to take the boy through 
the stages of our race development, just as the young bird 
must run for a send-off, before it flies, so pictography being 
its earliest form is the natural first step to writing. 



Signaling and Indian Signs 



157 



In general, picture writing aims to give on paper the idea 
of the Sign Language without first turning it into sounds. 
In the dictionary of Sign Language I give the written form 
after each of the signs that has a well established or pos- 
sible symbol. Many of these are drawn from the Indians 
who were among the best scouts and above all noted for 
their use of the picture-writing. A few of them will serve 
to illustrate. 

I /I m nil V Vi V" V" y"" QR»^")5 

Numbers were originally lingers held up, and five was the 
whole hand, while ten was a double hand. We can see 
traces of this origin in the Roman style of numeration. 

A one-night camp, a more permanent camp, a village and 
i\ town are shown in legible symbols. 

An enemy, sometimes expressed as a " snake," recalls our 
own "snake in the grass." A "friend," was a man with a 




The picture on the teepee linmg, to record Guy's Exploit 



branch of a tree; because this was commonly used as a 
flag of truce and had indeed the same meaning as our oUve 
branch. The ''treaty" is easily read; it was a pair of figures 
like this done in Wampum that recorded Penn's Treaty. 
"Good'' is sometimes given as a circle full of lines all 



158 



The Book of Woodcraft 



straight and level, and for "bad" they are crooked and con- 
trary. The wavy lines stood for water, so good water is 
clearly indicated. The three arrows added mean that at 
three arrow flights in that direction, that is a quarter mile, 
there is good water. If there was but one arrow and it 
pointed straight down that meant "good water here," if 
it pointed down and outward it meant "good water at a 
little distance." If the arrow was raised to carry far, it 




( 






Level 

Direction forward 

Direction backward 
Sun or day 

Sunrise 
Sunset 
Noon 

Night 

Day back one, or yes- 
terday 

Day forward one, or 
to-morrow 

Moon, or month 

Rain 

Snow 

Year (or snow round to 

snow) 






^ 



(^ 



^ 
^ 



Snow Moon or January 

Hunger Moon or Febru- 
ary 

IMarch the Wakening or 
Crow Moon 



Grass Moon or April 
Planting Moon or May 
Rose Moon or June 

Thunder Moon or July 

Red Moon or Green 
Com, August 



Hunting Moon, Septem- 
ber 



Leaf - Falling 
October 



Moon, 



^2^ Mad Moon, November 

^^^ Long Night Moon, De- 
cember. 



Signaling and Indian Signs 



159 



^ 




Man 


X 




Woman 


® 




Baby 
Scout 


D 




Scouting 


? 




Question 


X 




Yes 







No 


J8( 




Doubtful 


«<o^ 


1 


. Peace 


><(- 


7: 


, War 


% 




Surrender 


t 




Prisoner 


f 




Enemy 
Friend 





Good 
Bad 


aaas 


Water 


© 


Good water 


©■^ 


Good water in 3 arrow 
flights 


£ 


One-night camp 


^ 


More permanent camp 


m 


ViUage 


(^ 


Town 


.0i 


Heap or many 


f 


I have found 


<^ 


Bear 


-^ 


Grizzly bear 


4^ 


Chipmunk 




Dead bear 
Treaty of peace 



meant good '*water a long way off there." This sign wasof the 
greatest value in the dry country of the southwest. Most 
Indian lodges were decorated with pictographs depicting 
in some cases the owner's adventures, at other times his 
prayers for good luck or happy dreams. 

The old Indian sign for peace, three angles all pointing 
one way that is "agreed," contrasts naturally with the 
"war" or "trouble" sign, in which they are going different 
ways or against each other. 



i6o 



The Book of Woodcraft 



An animal was represented by a crude sketch in which its 
chief character was shown, thus chipmunk was a small 
animal with long tail and stripes. Bear was an outline 
bear, but grizzly bear, had the claws greatly exaggerated. 

When the animal was killed, it was represented on its 
back with legs up. 

Each chief, warrior and scout had a totem, a drawing of 
which stood for his name or for himself. 



^4> 



•0- 

-6- 



^\^J^ J A 



A man's name is expressed by his totem; thus, the above 
means, To-day, 20th Sun Thunder Moon. After three 
days "Deerfoot," Chief of the Flying Eagles, comes to our 
Standing Rock Camp. 

When a man was dead officially or actually, his totem was 
turned bottom up. 

Here is a copy of the inscription found by Schoolcraft on 
the grave post of Wabojeeg, or White Fish er, a famous 
Ojibwa chief. He was of the Caribou 
clan. On the top is his clan totem re- 
versed, and on the bottom the White 
Fisher; the seven marks on the left 
were war parties he led. 

The three marks in the middle are for 
woimds. 

The moose head is to record a desperate 
fight he had with a bull moose, while his 
success in war and in peace are also stated. 

This inscription could be read only by 
those knowing the story, and is rather as 
a memory help than an exact record. 




Signaling and Indian Signs i6i 

BLAZES AND INDIAN SIGNS — BLAZES 

First among the trail signs that are used by Scouts, 
Indians, and white hunters, and most likely to be of use to 
the traveler, are axe blazes on tree trunks. Among these 
some may vary greatly with locality, but there is one that I 
have found everywhere in use with scarcely any variation. 
That is the simple white spot meaning, ^^Here is the trail." 

The Indian in making it may nick off an infinitesimal 
speck of bark with his knife, the trapper with his hatchet 
may make it as big as a dollar, or the settler with his heavy 
axe may slab off half the tree-side; but the sign is the same 
in principle and in meaning, on tnmk, log or branch from 
Atlantic to Pacific and from Hudson Strait to Rio Grande. 
''This is your trail," it clearly says in the universal language 
of the woods. 

There are two ways of employing it : one when it appears 
on back and front of the trunk, so that the trail can be run 
both ways; the other when it appears on but one side of 
each tree, making a blind trail, which can be run one way 
only, the blind trail is often used by trappers and pros- 
pectors, who do not wish any one to follow their back track. 

But there are treeless regions where the trail must be 
marked; regions of sage brush and sand, regions of rock, 
stretches of stone, and level wastes of grass or sedge. Here 
other methods must be employed. 

A well-known Indian device, in the brush, is to break a 
twig and leave it hanging. {Second line.) 

Among stones and rocks the recognized sign is one stone 
set on top of another {top line) and in places where there is 
nothing but grass the custom is to twist a tussock into a 
knot {third line). 

These signs also are used in the whole country from Maine 
to California. ' 



l62 



The Book of Woodcraft 



Signs \n Stones 



ThiJ is the Trail Tura to the R.igKt Tura to tKe Left Important Varnine 

Jignj" in Twigs 



THi* ij the Trail Turn to the Rijht Turn to the Left Important VaminJ 

Signs in Gra.ss 



Thij If the Trail Tura to the Ri^ht Turn to the Left ImportantVaminJ 



fheLei 

iTignj in Blaje^ 







Thij \s IheTrail Turn to the Ri5ht Turn io the Left Important Warning 

Code for J'moKe J^ignalj 




Camp \s Here I am lojt. Help \ Good Newj All come to Council 

•ibme tipecial Bla3e5 u^-ed by Hunterj (S>-»iurveyorxy 










A Trap to A Trap to Camp ij to Campijfo J'pecial Adirondack SwvnoTS 
Righi- Left Flight Left Special Line Here 



Signaling and Indian Signs 163 

In running a trail one naturally looks straight ahead for 
the next sign; if the trail turned abruptly without notice 
one might easily be set wrong, but custom has provided 
against this. The tree blaze for turn "to the right" is shown 
in Number 2, fourth row; "to the left" in Number 3. The 
greater length of the turning blaze seems to be due to a 
desire for emphasis as the same mark set square on, is 
understood to mean "Look out, there is something of 
special importance here." Combined with a long side chip 
it means "very important; here turn aside." This is 
often used to mean "camp is close by," and a third sign 
that is variously combined but always with the general 
meaning of "warning" or "something of great importance" 
is a threefold blaze. (No. 4 on fourth line.) The com- 
bination (No. I on bottom row) would read "Look out now 
for something of great importance to the right." This 
blaze I have often seen used by trappers to mark the where- 
abouts of their trap or cache. 

Surveyors often use a similar mark — that is, three simple 
spots and a stripe to mean, "There is a stake close at hand," 
while a similar blaze on another tree near by means that 
the stake is on a line between. 

STONE SIGNS 

These signs done into stone-talk would be as in the top 
line of the cut. 

These are much used in the Rockies where the trail goes 
over stony places or along stretches of sHde-rock. 

GRASS AND TWIG SIGNS 

In grass or sedge the top of the tuft is made to show the 
direction to be followed ; if it is a point of great importance 



1 64 The Book of Woodcraft 

three tufts are tied, their tops straight if the trail goes 
straight on; otherwise the tops are turned in the direction 
toward which the course turns. 

The Ojibways and other woodland tribes use twigs for 
a great many of these signs. (See second row.) The hang- 
ing broken twig like the simple blaze means "This is the 
trail." The twig clean broken off and laid on the ground 
across the line of march means, "Here break from your 
straight course and go in the line of the butt end," and when 
an especial warning is meant, the butt is pointed toward the 
one following the trail and raised somewhat, in a forked 
twig. If the butt of the twig were raised and pointing to 
the left, it would mean "Look out, camp, or ourselves, or 
the enemy, or the game we have killed is out that way." 
With some, the elevation of the butt is made to show the 
distance of the object; if low the object is near, if raised 
very high the object is a long way off. 

These are the principal signs of the trail used by Scouts, 
Indians, and hunters in most parts of America. These are 
the standards — the ones sure to be seen by those who camp 
in the wilderness. 

SMOKE SIGNALS 

There is in addition a useful kind of sign that has 
been mentioned already in these papers — that is, 
the Smoke Signal. These were used chiefly by the 
Plains Indians, but the Ojibways seem to have employed 
them at times. 

A clear hot fire was made, then covered with green stuff 
or rotten wood so that it sent up a solid column of black 
smoke. By spreading and lifting a blanket over this 
smudge the column could be cut up into pieces long or short, 
and by a preconcerted code these could be made to convey 
tidings. 



Signaling and Indian Signs 165 

But the simplest of all smoke codes and the one of chief 
use to the Western traveler is this: 

One steady smoke — "Here is camp." 

Two steady smokes — "I am lost, come and help 
me. 

I find two other smoke signals, namely : 

Three smokes in a row — " Good news." 

Four smokes in a row — "All are summoned to 
council." 

These latter I find not of general use, nor are they so 
likely to be of service as the first two given. 

SIGNAL BY SHOTS 

The old buffalo hunters had an established signal that is 
yet used by the mountain guides. It is as follows: 

Two shots in rapid succession, an interval of five seconds 
by the watch, then one shot; this means, "where are you? " 
The answer given at once and exactly the same means 
"Here I am; what do you want?" The reply to this may 
be one shot, which means, "All right; I only wanted to 
know where you were." But if the reply repeats the first 
it means, "I am in serious trouble; come as fast as you can." 

SPECIAL SIGNS 

A sign much used among the Utes was three flocks of 
geese flying one way meaning, "All at Peace." But two 
one way and one the other meant, "Look out! there is a 
war afoot." 

Another Indian sign was a little heap of stones, meaning 
"We camped here because one of us was sick." This 
originated in the hot stones used for making steam 



i66 



The Book of Woodcraft 



in the vapor bath that is so much favored by Indian 
doctors. 

The Indians sometimes marked a spot of unusual im- 
portance by sinking the skull of a deer or a mountain sheep 
deep into a living tree, so that the horns hung out on each 
side. In time the wood and bark grew over the base of 
the horns and "medicine tree" was created. Several of 
these trees have become of historic importance. A notable 
example of this was the big Ramtree that by common con- 
sent demarked the hunting grounds of the Blackfeet from 
those of the Nez Perces. It was held by these Indians in 
rehgious veneration until some white vandal deliberately 
destroyed it by way of a practical joke. 




It would be easy to record many other Indian signs; the 
sign for the "first crow" of spring; the sign for "buffalo 
in sight"; the sign for a "war party coming"; the sign that 
a certain man "wants the arrows," that another man owes 
him, and the sign that the owner of the teepee is "praying 
and must not be disturbed." But these are things that are 
quickly passing away and the Indians themselves are for- 
getting them. 



Signaling and Indian Signs 167 

The most important of the signs used by men of the wil- 
derness are herein described. They are interesting as a crude 
beginning of literature. The knowledge of such things 
appeals to most boys. They find pleasure in learning this 
crudest of writing. Furthermore, many a one in the past 
has owed his life to an inlding of this woodcraft knowledge, 
and there is no reason to doubt that many a wilderness 
traveler in the future will find it of equally vital service. 

WEATHER SIGNALS 

(Adopted for general use by the United States Signal 
Service on and after March i, 1887.) 



No. I 


No. 2 


No_. 3 


No. 4 


No. s 


hite Flag 


Blue Flag 


Black Triangular 
Flag 


White Flag 
Black Centre 


White and Blue 



P P ^ [s] N 

Clear or Fair Rain or Snow Temperature Cold Wave Local Rain or Snow 

No. I, white flag, clear or fair weather, no rain. 

No. 2, blue flag, rain or snow. 

No. 3, black triangular flag, refers to temperature, and above 
Nos. I or 2, indicates warmer weather; below No. i 
or 2, colder weather, and when not displayed, station- 
ary weather. 

No. 4, white flag with black centre (cold wave flag), sudden 
fall in temperature; this signal is usually ordered at 
least twenty-four hours in advance of the cold wave. 
It is not displayed unless a temperature of forty -five 
degrees, or less is expected, nor is flag No. 3 ever 
displayed with it. 

No. 5, means local rain or snow; with 3 above it means with 
higher temperature; with 3 below it means lower 
temperature. 

A red flag with a black centre indicates that a storm of marked 
violence is expected. 



i68 



The Book of Woodcraft 

DISPLAY EXAMPLES 



P 



P 



Colder. Fair 
Weather 



Rain or Snow. 
Warmer 



Warmer. Fair Cold 
Weather, followed by 
Rain or Snow 



Wave. Fail 
Weather 



STORM AND HURRICANE WARNINGS 




Hurri- 
cane. 

Storm Warnings. — A red flag with a black centre indicates a storm of marked violence. 

The pennants displayed with flags indicate direction of wind — red, easterly; white, 
westerly; pennant above flag indicates wind from northerly quadrants; below, from south* 
erly quadrants. 

By night a red light indicates easterly winds, white light below red, westerly winds. 

Two red flags with black centres indicate approach of tropical hurricane. 

No night hurricane signals are displayed. 



SIGNALS ON THE RAILWAY 

Most of US are familiar with some of the signals given by 
brakemen, conductors, or engineers, but not so many of us 
have sat right down to inspect the code, as officially fixed. 
A conductor on the Canadian Pacific Railway allowed me 
to copy it out from his "Trainman's Book," 1909, and since 
then I have been told that this is the code in universal use, 
so I give it in full. 

It consists of color signals, hand and lantern signals, 
toots, and cord-pulls. It will add a new interest to the 
journey, at least when you can read the ''Signs of the Iron 
Trail," and the "Talk of the Iron Horse." 



Signaling and Indian Signs 169 

THE CODE 

(From C. P. R. "Trainman's Book," 1909, No. 7563; but in 
general use.) 
Colors: 

Red = Stop. 

Green = Go ahead. 

Yellow = Go cautiously. 

Green and White = Flag statio^i. stop at night. 

Blue =: Workmen busy under car. 

Band, Flag and Lamp Signals: 

Swimg across track Stop. 

Raised and lowered vertically Go ahead. 

Swung at half-arms' length, in small 

circle across track, train standing Back up. 
Swung vertically in a big circle, at 

arms' length across the track, 

when train is running Train broken in two. 

Swung horizontally above head, 

when train is standing Fut on air-brakes. 

Held at arms' length above the head, 

when train is standing Release air-brakes. 

Other Hand Signals, modifications of the above: 

Hand (or hands) held out horizon- 
tally and waved up and down Go ahead. 

Hand (or hands) suddenly thrown 
flat and horizontal Stop. 

Sometimes hands raised and held 
palms forward All right. 

Arm thrust forward and swept back 
toward opposite shoulder, as in 
beckoning Come back. 

Signals by Engine Whistle: 

(o a short toot. — a long one) 

o = Stop; put on brakes. 
— — = Take oflF brakes; get ready to start. 



I70 The Book of Woodcraft 

— ooo = Flagman go out to protect rear of train. 

— — — — zzz Flagman return from west or south. 

— — — z=: Flagman return from east or north. 

— — — :z= (when running) Train broken in two. 

To be repeated till answered by the same 
from the trainman, i. e., No. 4 in hand, 
flag and lamp signals. Similarly, this 
is the answer to No. 4 of hand, flag and 
lamp signals. 
00 = (all right) the answer to any signal not 

otherwise provided for. 
000 = (when the train is standing) back up; also 

is the reply to signals to "back up." 
0000 = Call for signals. 

— 00 = Calls attention of other trains to signals. 
00 = The acknowledgment by other trains. 
— — 00 = Approaching grade-crossings, and at whis- 
tle posts. 
•^ 3= Approaching stations, 
o — = (when double-heading) Air-brakes have 
failed on leading engine, and second 
engine is to take control of them. Sec- 
ond engine repeats same as soon as it 
has control. 
0000000000, etc. = Cattle (or persons) on the track. 

Air-whistle or Cord-pull: 

When the train is standing: 
Two blasts = Start. 
Three " = Back. 
Four " = Put on or take off brakes. 
Five " = Call in flagman. 

When the train is running: 

(All but the 2nd are answered by 2 blasts) 

Two blasts = Stop at once. 
Three " = Stop at next station. 
Four " = Reduce speed. 



Signaling and Indian Signs 171 

Five " = Increase speed. 

Six " = Increase steam-heat. 

Seven " = Release air-brakes, or sticking brake. 



The engineer responds to these with two short toots, meaning 
"All right," except in the second, when the engineer answers in 
three short toots. 



VIIL Campercraft or The Summer 
Camp 

Camping Out 

EVERY boy looks forward to camping out. Then 
it is that he gets the best chance to practise the 
things that are peculiar to scouting; and camping 
out is the only complete outdoor life. 

When a boy, I was of course eager for a chance to camp 
jut, but I had a very wrong idea about it. I believed that 
one must undergo all sorts of hardships, in order to be really 
"doing it"; such as, sleep on the ground with one blanket, 
go without proper food, etc. I know some boys that were 
injured for life by such practices. 

It is well, then, to keep in mind that camping out offers 
a number of priceless benefits, and is also beset by one or 
two dangers. Let us aim to get all the good and avoid all the 
ill. 

The good things are: The pure air, especially at night; 
the bracing and lung-healing power of the woods; the sun 
bath; the tonic exercise; and the nerve rest. 

The bad things are: The danger of rheumatism from 
sleeping on the ground, or in damp clothes; the exhaustion 
from bad nights, through insufficient bed-clothes or an 
uncomfortable bed; and the dangers arising from irregular 
meals and badly cooked food. 

I have seen boys go back from an ill-run camp, tired out 
and but little benefitted; whereas, if properly guided, ever\' 

172 



Gunpercraft or The Summer Gunp ^73 

camp-out should mean a new spell of life =- a fresh start in 
vigor for every one concerned. 

Many mothers ask with fear, "Won't my boy catch 
cold, if he camps out? " This is the last and least of dan- 
gers. Almost never does one catch cold in camp. I have 
found it much more Ukely that boys suffer through irregular 
hours of eating and sleeping; but these are troubles that the 
camp discipline is designed to meet. 

The great evil that campers should beware of, is of course 
rheumatism. But none need suffer if they will take the 
simple precaution of changing their wet clothes when not in 
action, and never sleeping directly on the ground. A warm, 
dry place for the bed should be prepared in every tent and 
teepee. 

As a rule, it is better to go on a trip with a definite object. 
If you go with a general vague determination to get healthy, 
you are likely to think too much about it. It is better to 
live correctly, and safely assume that you will be healthier 
for the trip. To illustrate: One of my trips was made to 
determine the existence of Wood Buffalo on the Great 
Slave River; another to prove that the Canadian Fauna 
reached the Lake of the Woods. Some of my friends have 
made trips to win the badge of expert canoe-man; others for 
the camper badge, and so forth, and I think it best to go a 
long way from home. Get as complete a change as possible. 

OUTFIT FOR A PARTY OF SIX (CAMPING ONE WEEK IN 
FIXED camp) 

I 1 2-foot teepee (if for cold weather), accommodating 
five or six men not forgetting a storm-cap, 

Or, in summer, a lo x 12 wall tent. 

18 X 10 awning for kitchen and dining-room, in hot or 
wet weather. 



174 The Book of Woodcraft 

5 yards mosquito-bar and some dope for stinging-insects. 
3 or 4 one-gallon bags of cotton for supplies. 
A few medicines and pill-kit or "first aid," including cold 
cream for sunburn. 

1 strong clothes line; ball of cord; ball twine; of ball of 
strong linen pack-thread. 

Axe. 

A sharp hatchet. 

Claw-hammer. 

Whetstone. 

Small crosscut saw. 

Spade. 

File. 

Packing needles and sewing-kit for repairing clothes. 

Nails: One lb. of i^, two lbs. of 2^, two lbs. of 3I, and 
one lb. of 5-inch. 

Pocket tool outfit (A, K, and B is good) 

Soap. 

Mirror. 

Toilet-paper. 

Waterproof match-box. 

Book of Woodcraft 

A locker. 

Cooking outfit: Either a ready-made, self -nesting *'Buzza- 
cot," or 

3 cover-kettles, lo-qt., 4-qt., and 2-qt. (riveted, not 
soldered) . 

2 frying-pans, with handles and covers. 
2 big spoons. 

Coffee strainer. 
I Dutch oven. 

1 wire griU. 

2 bake-pans 

i butcher knife. 



Campercraft or the Summer Camp i75 

Salt and pepper casters. 

Tin boxes to hold stock of same. 

2 folding buckets. 

2 folding wash-basins. 

Dishpan. 

Tea-pot (riveted). 

Coffee-pot (riveted). 

Dishcloths and towels. 

Soap. 

Folding lantern and supply of candles. 

4 flat steel rods to cook on. 

And for each man, plate, cup, saucer, and porringer 
(preferably enameled) ; also knife, fork, and spoon. 

And such other things as are dictated by previous experi- 
ence, or for use in the games to be played. 

Besides which each member has his ordinary clothes, 
with a change, and toilet-bag, also: 

A rubber blanket. 

2 wool blankets. 

I cotton or burlap bed-tick, 2^ x 6j ft. 

Swimming- trunks . 

A pair of brown sneaks, 

A war-sack of waterproof. 

Khaki suit. 

Fishing tackle and guns, according to choice. 

Pocket knife. 



Food to last six fellows one week: 

Oatmeal 6 lbs. 

Rice 2 lbs. 

Crackers lo lbs. 

Cocoa 3 lb. 



176 The Book of Woodcraft 

Tea ^ lb. 

Coffee 3 lbs. 

Lard 5 lbs. 

Sugar 6 lbs. 

Condensed milk 12 tins 

Butter 7 lbs. 

Eggs 3 dozen 

Bacon 15 lbs. 

Preserves 5 lbs. 

Prunes 3 lbs. 

Maple syrup 3 quarts 

Cheese i lb. 

Raisins 3 lbs. 

Potatoes ^ bushel 

White beans 3 quarts 

Canned corn 3 tins 

Flour 25 lbs. 

Baking-powder i lb. 

Concentrated soups ... § lb. 

Salt 2 lbs. 

Pepper i ounce 

Fresh fish and game are pleasant variations, but seem to 
make little difference in the grocery bill. 

OUTFIT FOR EACH WOODCRAFTER 



I good 5-foot lancewood bow, complete with string. 

6 standard arrows, 25 in. long, 3 feathers, steel points. 

I quiver of waterproof canvas or leather. 

I arm-guard. 

I head-band. 

I pair moccasins or "sneaks." 

1 waterproof blanket. 

2 Indian blankets of gray wool. 



Gimper craft or the Summer Camp i "n 

TENTS 

There are many styles of small tents on the market; al- 
most any of them answer very well. For those who wish to 
equip themselves with the latest and best, a lo x 12-foot wall 
tent of lo-ounce double-filled army duck, stained or dyed 
yellow, brown, or dull green, is best. It will accommodate 
a party of five or six. 

For tramping trips, light tents of waterproof silk are 
made. One large enough for a man weighs only two or 
three pounds. 

Any of the established makers can supply what is needed 
if they know the size of the party and nature of the outing. 



TEEPEES 

The Indian teepee has the great advantage of ventilation 
and an open fire inside. It has the disadvantage of needing 
a lot of poles and of admitting some rain by the smoke-hole. 
(It is fully described on page 468) 

A new style of teepee, invented by myself some years 
ago, has been quite successful, since it combines the advan- 




tage of teepee and tent and needs only four poles besides 
the smoke-poles. It is, however, less picturesque than the 
old style. 

This gives the great advantage of an open fire inside, and 
good ventilation, while it is quite rainproof. 



178 The Book of Woodcraft 

It can be put up with four long poles outside the can- 
vas, the holes crossing at the top as in the Indian teepee. 
Of course the point of the cover is attached before the 
poles are raised. 



THE CAMP GROUND 

In selecting a good camp ground, the first thing is a dry, 
level place near good wood and good water. If you have 
horses or oxen, you must also have grass. 

Almost all Indian camps face the east, and, when ideal, 
have some storm-break or shelter on the west and north. 
Then they get the morning sun and the afternoon shade in 
summer, and in winter avoid the coldest winds and drifting 
snows, which in most of the country east of the Rockies 
come from the north and west. 

Sometimes local conditions make a different exposure 
desirable, but not often. For obvious reasons, it is well to 
be near one's boat-landing. 

After pitching the tent or teepee, dig a trench around, 
with a drain on the low side to prevent flooding. 

LATRINE 

Each small camp or group of tents in a large camp, must 
have a latrine, that is a sanitary ditch or hole. For a small 
camp or short use, this is a narrow trench a foot wide, sur- 
rounded by a screen of bushes or canvas. It is made nar- 
row enough to straddle. Each time after use, a shovelful 
of dry earth is thrown in. 

But a large camp needs the regulation army latrine. 
This is a row of seats with lids over a long trench which has 
a layer of quicklime in the bottom. The wooden structure 



Campercraf t or the Summer Camp 1 79 

is banked up so no flies can get in. The lids are down tight 
when the seat is not in use. A shovelful of quickhme is 
then thrown in after each occasion. A running trough is 
arranged along side so it is tributary to the main trench; 
this also is kept coated with quicklime. The place should 
be thoroughly screened, but is as well without a roof 
except over the seats. 

All camps should be left as clear of filth, scraps, papers, 
tins, bottles^ etc., as though a human being had never been 
there. 

ARRIVING ON THE CAMP GROUND 

As soon as all are on the ground, with their baggage, let 
the Leader allot the places of each band or clan. Try to 
have each and every dwelling- tent about 25 feet from the 
next, in a place dry and easy to drain in case of rain and so 
placed as to have sun in the morning and shade in the after- 
noon. 

Each group is responsible for order up to the halfway line 
between them and the next group. 

Loose straw, tins, papers, bottles, glass, filth, etc., out 
of place are criminal disorder. 

Pitch at a reasonable distance from the latrine, as well 
as from the water supply. 

As much as possible, have each band or clan by itself. 

As soon as convenient, appoint fellows to dig and pre- 
pare a latrine or toilet, with screen. 

All will be busied settUng down, so that usually there is 
no methodic work the first day. 

But the second day it should begin. 

CAMP OFFICERS AND GOVERNMENT 

After the routine of rising, bathing, breakfast, etc., there 
should be called at eight o'clock a High Council. That is, a 



i8o The Book of Woodci-aft 

Council of all the Leaders, Guides, Head Guides, and 
Head Chief; that is, the Chief of the whole camp, ap- 
pointed for that day. He is the Chief in charge, or Head 
Man of the village. It is his duty to appoint all other oflScers 
for the day, and to inspect the camp. In some camps this 
High Council meets at night when the younger members are 
asleep. 

The other officers are: 

Assistant Chief in Charge, who goes about with the Chief 
and succeeds him next day. 

Keeper of the Milk and the Ice-box, when there is ice for 
the milk. 

Keeper of the Letters. He takes all letters to the post and 
brings back all mail. 

Keeper of the Canoes. No boats may be taken without 
his sanction, and he is responsible for the same. 

Keeper of the Garbage. He must gather up and destroy all 
garbage each day at a given hour; preferably late afternoon. 

Keeper of the Latrine. He must inspect hourly, and see 
that all keep the rules. 

Keeper of the Campfire. He must have the wood cut and 
laid for the Coimcil-fire at night, with an extra supply for 
all the evening, and must keep the Council-fire bright, not 
big; but never dull. 

Also, the High Council should appoint a Tally Keeper for 
the whole camp; he is to serve throughout the whole period 
of the encampments, keeping the records for every day. 
Sometimes the work is divided, but one fellow can do it 
better, if he is willing. 

A band or clan prize for the whole term is always offered. 
The competition for this is judged by points, and for each 
of the above services to the camp, the band, to which the 
scout belongs, gets up to 25 points per day, according to his 
efficiencv. 



Campercraft or the Summer Camp i8i 

No fellow should leave camp without permission. If he 
does 30, he may cause his Band to lose points. 

THE DOG SOLDIERS 

In every large camp it is found well to follow the Indian 
custom in forming a Lodge of Dog Soldiers. These are a 
band of eight or ten of the strongest and sturdiest fellows. 
They act as police when needed, but wear no badge. They 
must at once run to any place where the signal (a loud bay- 
ing) is heard, and act promptly and vigorously. 

When the Chief has selected the huskies he wishes to have 
in the Dog Lodge, he invites all to meet secretly in some 
quiet teepee at night, explains the purpose and adds *'I 
have called on you who are here. If any do not wish to 
serve, now is the time to retire." 

The sacred fire is lighted in the middle, all stand in a ring 
about it, each with his right hand on a war club above the 
fire, his left holding a handful of ashes. Then all repeat 
this vow: 

"As a Dog Soldier I pledge the might of my manhood to 
the cause of law and justice in this Camp for the term of the 
Camp or until released by the Chief, and if at any time I 
fail in my duty through fear entering into my heart, may I 
be dropped, scorned and forgotten like these ashes." 

Then he scatters the ashes. 

It is customary for each Tribe to adopt further a secret 
sign and password, which is taught to the Dog Soldiers as a 
finish. 

INSPECTION 

Every day there is an inspection. It is best in the 
middle of the morning. The Chief and his second go from 



1 82 



The Book of Woodcraft 



tent to tent. Each Clan is allowed 50 points for normal, 
then docked i to 10 points for each scrap of paper, tin, or 
rubbish left lying about; also for each disorderly feature or 
neglect of the rules of common sense, decency or hygiene, 
on their territory; that is, up to halfway between them 
and the next group. They may get additional points for 
extra work or inventions, or unusual services for the public 
good; but it is always as a Clan that they receive the points, 
though it was the individual that worked for them. 

After the inspection, the Chief announces the winning 
Band or Clan saying: "The Horns of the High Hikers were 

won to-day by Band." And the horns are 

accordingly hung on their standard, pole or other place, for 
the day. At the end of the camp, provided ten were present 
for at least a fortnight, Clan or Band that won them 
oftenest carries them home for their own; and ever after- 
ward are allowed to put in one corner of their banner a 
small pair gf black horns. 



THE HORNS OF THE HIGH HIKERS 

What are they? Usually a pair of polished 
buffalo horns with a fringed buckskin hanger, 
on which is an inscription saying that they 

were won by Band at such 

a camp. 

When buffalo horns cannot be got, common 
cow horns or even horns of wood are used. 




COUNCIL-FIRE CIRCLE 



In every large permanent camp I establish a propel 
Council-fire Circle or Council Camp. The uses and 



Campercraft or the Summer Camp 1 83 

benefits of these will be seen more and more, as camp 
goes on. 

For the Council-fire Circle, select a sheltered, level place 
that admits of a perfectly level circle 24 feet across; 18 feet 
has been used, but more room gives better results. On 
the outer rim of this, have a permanently fixed circle of very 
low seats; 8 inches is high enough, but they should have a 
back, and for this, the easiest style to make is that marked 
K. L, on page 481. Each Band or Clan should make its own 
seat, and always go there in Grand Council. On the back 
of the seat should be two loops of wire or string in which to 
put their standard. Back of the first row should be a 
slightly higher row. If the ground slopes up, all the better, 
but in any case there should be fixed seats enough for all the 
camp. The place should be carefully leveled and pre- 
pared, and kept always in order, for it will be used several 
times each day, either for councils or for games, dances and 
performances. 

At one side of the ring in a conspicuous place should be 
the throne of the Chief (p. 481); close by this a desk and 
seat for the Tally Keeper and on the desk should be a lan- 
tern holder; in the exact middle of the ring is the Council- 
fire, never a bonfire. 



TOTEM-POLE 

Directly opposite the Chief's throne, on the outer edge of 
the camp, should be the Totem-pole. This I always set up 
as soon as possible in all permanent camps. Its purpose is, 
ist, to typify the movement; 2nd, to display the Totems of 
all the Tribes, or Bands that camp here; 3rd, to serve as a 
place of notice. Any document posted on the Totem-pole 
is considered published. 



l84 



The Book of Woodcraft 






a Totem-pole of the Sinawa Tribe (15 feet high) 
b of Flying Eagles 
c and d from Niblack's West Coast Indians. Eagles and Bears 

COUNCILS 

Three kinds of Councils are held in the Council Place: 

1. The High Council of the Chiefs and the GuideR 
every morning at 8 o'clock, and at other times when called. 

2. The General or Common Council of all the fellows 
every night from seven to nine o'clock. At this we have 
some business (in the awarding of honors), some campfire 
stunts or challenges, and a Httle entertainment. 

3. Grand Council. This is usually held once a week. 
Every one comes in full Scout or Indian dress. Visitors 
are invited. Business except when very interesting is 
dispensed with, and a program of sports and amusements, 
chiefly for the visitors, is carefully prepared. This is 
"Strangers' Night" and they should be entertained, not 
bored. 



Campercraft or the Summer Camp 185 



BEDS 

Of all things, the camper's bed is the thing most often 
made wrong, and most easily made right, when one knows 
how; and of all things comfort at night is most essential. 

Every dealer in camp outfits can produce an array of 
different camp beds, cots, and sleeping bags, that shows 
how important it is to be dry and warm when you sleep. 

The simplest plan is the oldest one — two pair of blankets 
and waterproof undersheet on a neatly laid bed of evergreen 
boughs, dry leaves, or dry grass. The ideal way of laying 
the boughs is shown in the figure below. 

When I canH get grub of the Broadway sort, 

ril fatten on camper's fare, 
ni tramp all day and at night resort 

To a bed boughed down with care. 



.^yrAKt 



5TAKr-. 




But there are few places now 
in eastern America where you 
are allowed to cut boughs freely. 
In any case you cannot take the 
bough bed with you when you 
move, and it takes too much 
time to make at each camp. 

Sleeping bags I gave up long 
ago. They are too difficult to 
air, or to adjust to different 
temperatures. 

Rubber beds are luxurious, 
but heavy for a pack outfit, and 
in cold weather they need thick 
blankets over them, otherwise 
they are too cool. 

So the one ideal bed for the 



1 86 The Book of Woodcraft 

camper, light, comfortable, and of wildwood stuff, is the 
Indian or willow bed, described on p 495. 

WATER, OR THE INDIAN WELL 

If there is swamp or pond, but no pure water at hand, 
you can dig an Indian well in half an hour. This is simply 
a hole about 18 inches across and down about 6 inches 
below water-level, a few paces from the pond. Bail it out 
quickly; let it fill again, bail it a second time, and the third 
time it fills, it will be full of filtered water, clear of every- 
thing except matter actually dissolved. 

It is now well known that ordinary vegetable matter does 
not cause disease. All contamination is from animal refuse 
or excreta, therefore a well of this kind in a truly wild region 
is as safe as a spring. 

MOSQUITOES, BLACK FLIES, ETC. 

If you are camping in mosquito or fly season, the trip may 
be ruined, if you are not fully prepared. 

For extreme cases, use the ready-made head-nets. They 
are hot, but effectual. You can easily get used to the net; 
no man can stand the flies. In my Arctic trip of 1907, we 
could not have endured life without the nets. Indians and 
all wore them. 

Of the various dopes that are used, one of the simplest 
and best is Colonel N. Fletcher's, given in Kephart's "Book 
of Camping and Woodcraft": 

"Pure pine tar ...... i oz. 

Oil pennyroyal i oz. 

Vaseline 3 ozs. 

Mix cold in a mortar. If you wish, you can add 3 per 
cent. carboHc acid to above. Some make it i^ ozs. tar." 



Campercraft or the Summer Camp 187 

Most drug shops keep ready-made dopes under such 
names as Citronella, Repellene, Lollakapop, etc. 



LICE AND VERMIN 

In certain crowded camps there is danger of head lice and 
body vermin. I have heard washing in potato water 
recommended as a sure cure. Potato water is the water 
potatoes have been boiled in. Most drug shops have 
tobacco ointment and blue ointment ; a very little of these 
applied to the body where there is hair is a sure cure. 

SUGGESTED CAMP ROUTINE 



6:30 A. M. 


Turn out, bathe, etc. 


7:00 


Breakfast. 


8:00 


Air bedding in sun, if possible 


8:15 


High Council of Leaders. 


9:00 


Scouting games and practice. 


II :oo 


Swimming. 


1 2 :oo M. 


Dinner. 


I :oo p. M. 


Talk by leader. 


2:00 


Games, etc. 


6:00 


Supper. 


7:00 


Evening Council. 


10:00 


Lights out. 




Sometimes High Council for a few minutes 




instead of in the morning. 



CAMPFIRES 



The day Columbus landed (probably) the natives re- 
marked; "White man fool, make big fire, can't go near; 
Indian make little fire and sit happy. " 



1 88 



The Book of Woodcraft 



We all know that a camp without a campfire would be 
no camp at all; its chief est charm would be absent. 

Your first care, then, is to provide for a small fire and pre- 
vent its spreading. In the autumn this may mean very 
elaborate clearing, or burning, or wetting of a space around 
the fire. In the winter it means nothing. 

Cracked Jimmy, in "Two Little Savages," gives very 
practical directions for lighting a fire anywhere in the 
timbered northern part of America, thus: 

"First a curl of birch bark as dry as it can be, 
Then some twigs of soft wood, dead, but on the tree, 
Last of all some pine-knots to make the kittle foam, 
And there's a fire to make you think you're settin' right at 
hom£.'* 

If you have no birch bark, it is a good plan to shave a dry 
soft-wood stick, leaving all the shavings sticking on the end 
in a fuzz, like a Hopi prayer stick. Several of these make a 
sure fire kindler. Fine splinters may be made quickly by 
hammering a small stick with the back of the axe. 

In the case of a small party and hasty camp, you neea 
nothing but a pot hanger of green wood for a complete 




kitchen, and many hundreds of times, on prairie and in 
forest, I found this sufficient. 



Gunpercraft or the Summer Camp 189 



A more complete camp grate is made of four green logs 
(aspen preferred), placed as in the illustration. Set the top 
logs 3 inches apart at 
one end, 10 inches at 
the other. The top logs 
should be flattened in 
the middle of their top 
sides — to hold the pot 
which sits on the open- 
ing between the top logs. 
The fire of course is 
built on the ground, under the logs. Sometimes stones 
of right size and shape are used instead of the logs, but 
the stones do not contribute anything to the heat and are 
less manageable. 




Green log grate 




Camp kitchen 

In addition to this log grate, more elaborate camps have 
a kitchen equipped with a hanger as below, on which are 
pot hooks of green wood. 

In wet weather, an axeman can always get dry wood by 



190 



The Book of Woodcraft 




cutting into a standing dead tree, or on 
the under side of down timber that is not 
entirely on the ground. 

On the prairies and plains, since buffalo 
chips are no more, we use horse and cow 
chips, kindled with dry grass and roots of 
sage-brush, etc. 

To keep a fire alive all night, bank the 
coals: i. e., bury them in ashes. 

Always put out the fire on leaving camp. 

It is a crime to leave a burning fire. 

Use buckets of water if need be. 



COUNCIL-FIRE 



The Council-fire is a very different thing from the cooking 
fire or the so-called bonfire. And there are just as many 
ways of making it wrong. 

These are the essentials: 

It must be easily started. 

It must give a steady, bright light. 

It must have as little heat as possible, for it is mostly 
used in the summer. Therefore, it must be small. 

It is best built as in (c), about two and one half feet 
high ; the bottom stick about three feet long ; the rest shorter 
and smaller. 

The small wood and chips to light it can be put either 
under or on top of the second layer. 

It should be drawn in toward the top, so as to bum with- 
out falling apart. 

It must contain a large proportion of dry, winter-seasoned 
wood, if it is to blaze brightly. The readiest seasoned wood 
is usually old lumber. . 



Campercraft or the Summer Camp 191 

For an all-evening Council-fire, at least three times as 
much should be in stock as on the fire when started. 

Here are some wrong methods. 

The high pyramid or bonfire, (a) goes ofif like a flash, 
roasts every one, then goes dead. 

The shapeless pile (b), is hard to light and never bright. 




The bonfire is always bad. It wastes good wood; is 
dangerous to the forest and the camp; is absolutely un- 
sociable. A bonfire will spoil the best camp-circle ever got 
together. It should be forbidden everywhere. 

FIREARMS 

Experience shows that it is unwise to have firearms in 
camp. And no one under fourteen years of age should be 
allowed the use of a gun or pistol under any circumstances. 

The didn't-know-it-was-loaded fool is the cause of more 
sorrow than the deliberate murderer. 

For any one to point a firearm at another is a crime. If 
he didn't know it was loaded, he should be still more 
severely punished. 

Never let the muzzle of the gun sweep the horizon. 

Never carry a gun full-cock or hammer down. The half- 
cock is made for safety. Use it. 

Never pull a gun by the muzzle. 

Never shoot at anything about which you are in doubt. 



192 The Book of Woodcraft 

CAMP COOKERY 

(See Horace Kephart's "Book of Camping and Wood- 
craft.") 

In most camps the staples are: Coffee (or tea), 
bacon, game, fish and hardtack, bannocks or biscuit,, 
usually and most appropriately called "sinkers" and 
"damper." 

To make these necessary evils, take 

I pint flour. 

I teaspoonful of baking-powder, 

Half as much salt. 

Twice as much grease or lard, 

With water enough to make into paste, say one half a 
pint. 

When worked into smooth dough, shape it into wafers, 
half an inch thick, and three inches across. Set in a greased 
tin, which is tilted up near a steady fire. Watch and turn 
the tin till all are browned evenly. 

For other and better but more elaborate methods of 
making bread, see Kephart's book as above. 

For cooking fish and game the old, simple standby s are 
the frying-pan and the stew-pan. 

As a general rule, mix all batters, mush, etc., with cold 
water, and always cook with a slow fire. 

There is an old adage: 

Hasty cooking is tasty cooking. 
Fried meat is dried meat. 
Boiled meat is spoiled meat. 
Roast meat is best meat. 

This reflects perhaps the castle kitchen rather than the 
camp, but it has its measure of truth, and the reason why 



Campercraft or the Summer Camp i93 

roast meat is not more popular is because it takes so much 
time and trouble to make it a success. 

During my Barren Ground trip I hit on a remarkably 
successful roaster that, so far as I know, was never tried 
before. 

The usual pot-stick is set in the ground (if no tree be 
near) , and the roast hung by a wire and a cord ; where they 




meet is a straight or fiat piece of wood, or bark, set in a loop 
of the wire. 

The wind strikes on this, causing the roast to turn; 
it goes till the cord is wound up then unwinds itself 
and goes on unceasingly. We used it every day. It 
was positively uncanny to see the way in which this 
thing kept on winding and unwinding itself, all day long, 
if need be. 



194 



The Book of Woodcraft 



WAR-SACK 

Every brave in camp should have a war-sack. This is a 
sack of waterproofed canvas to hold clothing and anything 
that is unbreakable. It has several advantages over a 
trunk. It is cheap ($1.50), waterproof, light, a comfortable 
pack to carry or to stow in a canoe, collapsible when empty, 
safe to float in an upset, and at night it serves as a pillow. 

Its disadvantages are that it will not protect breakables, 
and you have to take out most of the things to find an article 
not on the top. Nevertheless, all old campers use the war- 
sack. They can be had of any camp outfitter. 

WOODCRAFT BUTTONS 

On the Plains, when a button is lost or needed, it is easy 
to make one of leather. Usually a piece of an old strap is 
is used. Cut it the right size, make two holes in it, and sew 
it on as an ordinary button. This never breaks or fails. 
As the old plainsman who first showed me, said, ''There's 
a button that'll be right there when the coat's all wore away 
from behind it." 




Campercraft or the Summer Camp i9S 

LACE OR THONG 

If you need a lace or thong and have no leather long 
enough, take a square piece, round the corners, then 
cut it round and round, till it is all used up. Pull and 
roll the thong produced, until it is small and even, with- 
out kinks. 



IX, Games for the Camp 

Interesting Pursuits 



1HAVE always taken the ground that interest is as 
essential to exercise as relish is to digestion. And foi 
this reason have no use for the Indian clubs or dumb- 
bells. An ideal exercise is in the open air, employing not 
only every member vigorously — not violently — but 
also the faculties including the great coordinating power 
that is the crowning gift of the athlete — the power to 
make all parts play the game in the measure needed to 
secure the best total result. 

How needful is it then to have interesting pursuits that 
inspire the Scout to do and be his very best. 

The appeal to the imagination that is assumed by such 
games as Spear-throwing and Dispatch-runner is the great- 
est and most elevating of all. Without some such magical 
power, no fellow really does the best that is in him. It 
makes a live wire of every fibre in his make-up. 

TILTING SPEARS 

A simple and useful part of the Tribe's outfit that should 
be made ready before going into camp is a supply of tilting- 
spears. I have seen a good many campers try tilting in the 
water or on the land, and make an utter failure of it, by 
reason of the absurdly clumsy, heavy spears used. A green 

196 




Games for the Gimp ^97 

sapling was cut for handle, and the end tied up in a bundle 
of rags that was i8 inches through. This was hard enough 
to lift, when dry, and as it usually soon fell into the water, 
and got sopping wet, its weight became trebled, and one 
could not use it as a spear at all. 

The correct spears always used in our camps are made 
thus: Take 8 feet of the butt-end of an ordinary bamboo 
fishing-rod — or, if anything, a little heavier than ordinary. 
Get a 2 -inch plank of any hght wood, and from this cut a 
disk 3 inches across, bevel oflf and round the edges. Bore a 
hole (about f inch) in the middle, 
and put this on the top of the 
bamboo, so that it sets against ^wooctt-n. duK 
a shoulder or knot. Drive a ^* 7 

circular plug in the hollow of 
the bamboo for a wedge, and 

make all secure with one or two ^^jt^^ - >• . 

very thin nails driven in (No. 7). ^*«^ ^ ^ 

Now pad the head an inch 
thick with the ordinary horsehair stuffing that is used in 
furniture, and bind all with strong burlap, sewing it at the 
seams, and lashing it around the bamboo with string (No. 8) . 
This completes the dry land spear. If for use in the water, 
make a final cover out of rubber cloth. This keeps the 
spear dry. A completed spear weighs about i^ lbs. 

Each band should have a half-dozen of these spears. 
They serve a number of purposes, some of them quite dif 
ferent from that originally intended. 

TILTING IN THE WATER 

When used in the water, the ordinary rules of canoe- 
tilting are followed. Each spearman stands in the bow of 
his boat, on the bow-seat. His crew bring him within 8 




igS The Book of Woodcraft 

feet of his rival, and now he endeavors to put him over- 
board. Points are reckoned thus: 

Forcing your enemy to put one foot down off 

the seat 5 

Forcing your enemy to put two feet down off 

the seat lo 

Forcing your enemy on one knee ... 5 
Forcing your enemy down on two knees 10 
Forcing your enemy to lose his spear . 10 
Forcing your enemy overboard . . -25 

It is a foul to strike below the knee, or to use the spear as 
a club. 

The umpire may dock up to 25 points for fouls. 

When canoes are used, the spearman stands on the bot- 
tom, so all points are by loss of spear, or by going over- 
board. 

TUB-TILTING ON LAND 

But by far the most of the tilting is done on land, around 
the campfire. For this we use two stools, about 14 inches 
across. These are set level, exactly a spear length apart, 
centre to centre. 

Each fighter takes his place on a stool, and his game is 
to put the other off the other stool. To prevent acci- 
dents, we have usually a catcher behind each man. The 
umpire stands alongside, near the middle. 

It is a foul to use the spear as a club, or to push below 
the knees, or to push the stool, or to seize the other man's 
spear in your hand, or to touch the ground with your spear. 

A foul gives the round to the other man. 

The round is over when one man is off. 

It is a draw when both go off together. 

They change stools after each round. 



Games for the Camp 



199 



If one drops his spear, and recovers it without going off, 
it is all right. 

The battle is usually for 3, 5, or 7 rounds. 

I do not know of any good thrusts having been invented, 
but several good parries are well known. One is to use 
your spear-handle as a single stick. The best players 
parry much by wriggling the body. Often, when over- 
balanced, one can regain by spinning completely around. 

So much for the game. It is immensely popular at night 
by the blazing campfire, and is especially used in initiations. 

STILL-HUNTING THE BUCK, OR THE DEER-HUNT 

The deer is a dummy, best made with a wire frame, on 
which soft hay is wrapped till it is of proper size and shape, 
then all is covered with open burlap. A few touches of 
white and black make it very reaUstic. 




i^.htfK. 




If time does not admit of a well-finished deer, one can 
be made of a sack stuJBfed with hay, decorated at one 
end with a smaller sack for head and neck, and set on 
four thin sticks. 



200 The Book of Woodcraft 

The side of the deer is marked with a large oval, and over 
the heart is a smaller one. 
Bows and arrows only are used to shoot this deer. 
A pocketful of corn, peas, or other large grain is now 
needed for scent. The boy who is the deer for the first 
hunt takes the dummy under his arm and runs off, getting 
ten minutes' start, or until he comes back and shouts 
"ready!" He leaves a trail of corn, dropping two or three 
grains for every yard and making the trail as crooked as he 
likes, playing such tricks as a deer would do to baffle his 
pursuers. Then he hides the deer in any place he fancies, 
but not among rocks or on the top of a ridge, because in one 
case many arrows would be broken, and in the other, lost. 

The hunters now hunt for this 
deer just as for a real deer, either 
following the trail or watching the 
woods ahead; the best hunters 
combine the two. If at any time 
the trail is quite lost the one in 
charge shouts ' ' Lost Trail! ' ' After 
that the one who finds the trail 
scores two. Any one giving a false 
alarm by shouting '^ Deer'^ is fined 
five. 

Thus they go till some one finds 
the deer. He shouts "Deer!" and scores ten for finding it. 
The others shout "Second," " Third," etc., in order of seeing 
it, but they do not score. 

The finder must shoot at the deer with his bow and arrow 
from the very spot whence he saw it. If he misses, the 
second hunter may step up five paces, and have his shot. 
If he misses, the third one goes five, and so on till some one 
hits the deer, or until the ten-yard Hmit is reached. If the 
finder is within ten yards on sighting the deer, and misses 




Games for the Gimp 



201 



his shot, the other hunters go back to the ten-yard limit. 
Once the deer is hit, all the shooting must be from the exact 
spot whence the successful shot was fired. 

A shot in the big oval is a body wound; that scores five. 
A shot outside that is a scratch; that scores two. A shot 
in the small oval or heart is a heart wound; it scores ten, 
and ends the hunt. Arrows which do not stick do not 




SUtvicw 



count, unless it can be proved that they passed right 
through, in which case they take the highest score that they 
pierced. 

If aU the arrows are used, and none in the heart, the deer 
escapes, and the boy who was deer scores twenty-five. 

The one who found the dummy is deer for the next hunt. 
A clever deer can add greatly to the excitement of the 
game. 

Originally we used paper for scent, but found it bad. It 
littered the woods, yesterday's trail was confused with that 
of to-day, etc. Corn proved better, because the birds 



202 The Book of Woodcraft 

and the squirrels kept it cleaned up from day to day, and 
thus the ground was always ready for a fresh start. But 
the best of all is the hoof mark for the shoe. These iron 
hoof marks are fast to a pair of shoes, and leave a trail 
much like a real deer. This has several advantages. It 
gives the hunter a chance to tell where the trail doubled, 
and which way the deer was going. It is more realistic, and 
a boy who can foUow this skilfully can follow a living deer. 
In actual practice it is found well to use a little corn with 
this on the hard places, a plan quite consistent with realism, 
as every hunter will recall. 

It is strictly forbidden to any hunter to stand in front of 
the firing line; all must be back of the line on which the 
shooter stands. 

There is no limit to the situations and curious combina- 
tions in this hunt. The deer may be left standing or lying. 
There is no law why it should not be hidden behind a solid 
tree trunk. The game develops as one follows it. After 
it has been played for some time with the iron hoof mark as 
above, the boys grow so skilful on the trail that we can dis- 
pense with even the corn. The iron mark like a deer hoof 
leaves a very realistic ''slot" or track, which the more skil- 
ful boys readily follow through the woods. A hunt is usually 
for three, five, or more deer, according to agreement, and 
the result is reckoned by points on the whole chase. 

THE BEAR HUNT 

This is played by half a dozen or more boys. Each has a 
club about the size and shape of a baseball club, but made of 

J li li H "^ 

straw tied around two or three switches and tightly sewn up 
in burlap. 



Games for the Camp 



203 



One big fellow is selected for the bear. He has a school- 
bag tightly strapped on his back, and in that a toy balloon 
fully blown up. This is his heart. On his neck is a bear- 
claw necklace of wooden beads and claws. (See Cut.) 

He has three dens about one hundred yards apart in a 
triangle. While in his den the bear is safe. If the den is 
a tree or rock, he is safe while touching it. He is obhged to 
come out when the chief hunter counts 100, and must go 
the rounds of the three till the hunt is settled. 

The object of the hunters is to break the balloon or heart; 
that is, kill the bear. He must drop dead when the heart 
bursts. The hunter who kills him claims the necklace. 




But the bear also has a club for defence. Each hunter 
must wear a hat, and once the bear knocks a hunter's hat 
off, that one is dead and out of this hunt. He must drop 
where his hat falls. 

Tackling of any kind is forbidden. 

The bear wins by killing or putting to flight all the 
hunters. In this case he keeps the necklace. 

The savageness of these big bears is indescribable. 
Many lives are lost in each hunt, and it has several times 
happened that the whole party of hunters has been exter- 
minated by some monster of unusual ferocity. 

This game has also been developed into a play. 



204 



The Book of Woodcraft 



SPEARING THE GREAT STURGEON 

This water game is exceedingly popular and is especially 
good for public exhibition, being spectacular and full of 
amusement and excitement. 

The outfit needed is: 

(i) A sturgeon roughly formed of soft wood ; it should be 
about three feet long and nearly a foot thick at the head. 
It may be made realistic, or a small log pointed at both 
ends will serve. 



TA6 Wooden btur<i$Qn^ 




Wui^kt for f>SiCCiift , 

(2) Two spears with six-inch steel heads and wooden 
handles (about three feet long). The points should be 
sharp, but not the barbs. Sometimes the barbs are omit- 
ted altogether. Each head should have an eye to which is 




Th Sf$irA(icL 



attached twenty feet of one-quarter-inch rope. On each 
rope, six feet from the spearhead, is a fathom mark made 
by tying on a rag or cord. 

(3) Two boats with crews. Each crew consists of a 
spearman, who is captain, and one or two oarsmen or pad- 
dlers, of which the after one is the pilot. All should be 
expert swimmers or else wear life belts during the game. 

The game. Each boat has a base or harbor; this is 



Games for the Camp 205 

usually part of the shore opposite that of the enemy; or it 
obviates all danger of collision if the boats start from the 
same side. The sturgeon is left by the referee's canoe at a 
point midway between the bases. At the word "Go!" 
each boat leaves its base and, making for the sturgeon, 
tries to spear it, then drag it by the line to the base. When 
both get their spears into it the contest becomes a tug of 
war until one of the spears puUs out. 

The sturgeon is landed when the prow of the boat that 
has it in tow touches its proper base, even though the 
spear of the enemy is then in the fish: or it is landed when 
the fish itself touches base if it is also in tow at the time. 
The boats change bases after each heat. 

Matches are usually for one, three, or five sturgeon. 
Points are counted only for the landing of the fish, but the 
referee may give the decision on a foul or a succession of 
fouls, or the delinquent may be set back one or more boat- 
lengths. 

Sometimes the game is played in canoes or boats, with 
one man as spearman and crew. 

Rules: It is not allowed to push the sturgeon into a new 
position with the spear or paddle before striking. 

It is allowed to pull the sturgeon under the boat or pass 
it around by using the line after spearing. 

It is allowed to lay hands on the other boat to prevent a 
collision, but otherwise it is forbidden to touch the other 
boat or crew or paddle or spear or line, or to lay hands on the 
fish or to touch it with the paddle or oar, or touch your own 
spear while it is in the fish, or to tie the line around the fish 
except so far as this may be accidentally done in spearing. 

It is allowed to dislodge the enemy's spear by throwing 
your own over it. The purpose of the barbs is to assist 
in this. 

It is allowed to run on to the sturgeon with the boat. 



2o6 The Book of Woodcraft 

It is absolutely forbidden to throw the spear over the other 
boat or over the heads of your crew. 

In towing the sturgeon the fathom-mark must be over 
the gunwale — at least six feet of line should be out when 
the fish is in tow. It is not a foul to have less, but the spear- 
man must at once let it out if the umpire or the other crew 
cries ''Fathom!" 

The spearman is allowed to drop the spear and use the 
paddle or oar at will, but not to resign his spear to another 
of the crew. The spearman must be in his boat when the 
spear is thrown. 

If the boat is upset the judge's canoe helps them to right. 

Each crew must accept the backset of its accidents. 

CANOE TAG 

Any number of canoes or boats may engage in this. A 
rubber cushion, a hot-water bag full of air, any rubber 
football, or a cotton bag with a lot of corks in it is needed. 
The game is to tag the other canoe by throwing this into it. 

The rules are as in ordinary cross-tag. 

SCOUTING 

Scouts are sent out in pairs or singly. A number of 
points are marked on the map at equal distances from camp, 
and the scouts draw straws to see where each goes. If one 
place is obviously hard, the scout is allowed a fair number 
of points as handicap. All set out at same time, go direct, 
and return as soon as possible. 

Points are thus allowed: 

Last back, zero for traveling. 

The others count one for each minute they are ahead of 
the last. 

Points up to loo are allowed for their story on return. 



Games for the Camp 



207 



Sometimes we allow 10 points for each Turtle they have 
seen; 10 for each Owl seen and properly named; 5 for each 
Hawk, and i each for other wild birds; also 2 for a Cat; i 
for a Dog. 

No information is given the Scout; he is told to go to such 
a point and do so and so, but is fined points if he hesitates 
or asks how or why, etc. 



THE GAME OF QUICKSIGHT 

Take two boards about a foot square, divide each into 
twenty-five squares; get ten nuts and ten pebbles. Give 
to one player one board, five nuts, and five pebbles. He 
places these on the squares in any pattern he fancies, and 
when ready, the other player is allowed to see it for five 




Quiclti{§/Lt Gazafi 



countirs 



seconds. Then it is covered up, and from the memory of 
what he saw the second player must reproduce the pattern 
on his own board. He counts one for each that was right, 
and takes off one for each that was wrong. They take 
turn and turn about. 

This game is a wonderful developer of the power to see and 
memorize quickly. 



208 



The Book of Woodcraft 



FAR-SIGHT, OR SPOT-THE-RABBIT 

Take two six-inch squares of stiff white pasteboard or 
whitened wood. On each of these draw an outline Rabbit, 
one an exact duplicate of the other. Make twenty round 
black wafers or spots, each half an inch across. Let one 
player stick a few of these on one Rabbit-board and set it 





up in full light. The other, beginning at loo yards, draws 
near till he can see the spots well enough to reproduce the 
pattern on the other which he carries. If he can do it at 
75 yards he has wonderful eyes. Down even to 70 (done 
3 times out of 5) he counts high honor; from 70 to 60 counts 
honor. Below that does not count at all. 



HOME STAR OR POLE STAR 

Each competitor is given a long, straight stick, in day- 
time, and told to lay it due north and south. In doing tMs 
he may guide himself by sun, moss, or anything he can find 
in nature — anything, indeed, except a compass. 

The direction is checked by a good compass corrected for 
the locality. The one who comes nearest wins. 



Games for the Camp 209 

It is optional with the judges whether the use of a time- 
piece is to be allowed. 

RABBIT HUNT 

The game of Rabbit-hunting is suited for two hunters in 
limited grounds. 

Three little sacks of brown burlap, each about eight 
inches by twelve, are stuffed with hay. 

At any given place in the woods the two hunters stand in 
a lo-foot circle with their bows and arrows. One boy is 
blindfolded; the other, without leaving the circle, throws 
the Rabbits into good hiding places on the ground. Then 
the second hunter has to find the Rabbits and shoot them 
without leaving the circle. The lowest number of points 
wins, as in golf. If the hunter has to leave the circle he 
gets one point for every step he takes outside. After he 
sees the Rabbit he must keep to that spot and shoot till it 
is hit once. One shot kills it, no matter where struck. 
For every shot he misses he gets five points. 

After his first shot at each Rabbit the hider takes alter- 
nate shots with him. 

If it is the hider who kills the Rabbit, the hunter adds 
ten points to his score. If the hunter hits it, he takes ten 
off his score. 

If the hunter fails to find all the Rabbits, he scores twenty- 
five for each one he gives up. 

The hider cannot score at all. He can only help his 
friend into trouble. Next time the two change places. 

A match is usually for two brace of Rabbits. 

ARROW FIGHT 

This is a good one for challenges between two bands 
of equal numbers, say six on a side. 



2IO The Book of Woodcraft 

Each brave is armed with a bow and arrows (blunt 
preferred). Let the two bands stand in a row opposite 
a given bank, lo to 20 yards away. Against this bank 
should be a row of 12-inch wooden or card disks (wooden 
dishes do well) set on edge lightly in stakes. Each brave 
is represented by a disk, which is opposite his enemy or 
corresponding number. Thus six disks, number one to 
six, represent the Wolf Band; they are opposite the Eagles, 
and vice-versa. 

At the word go each shoots at the disks that represent 
his enemies. As soon as the disk that represents himself 
is shot, he must fall; he is out of the fight. The battle 
continues until all of one side are down. A truce may be 
arranged to recover the arrows. 

HOSTILE SPY 

Hanging from the Totem-pole is a red or yellow horsetail. 
This is the Grand Medicine Scalp of the band. The Hos- 
tile Spy has to capture it. The leader goes around on the 
morning of the day and whispers to the various braves, 
"Look out — there's a spy in camp." At length he goes 
secretly near the one he has selected for spy and whispers, 
"Look out, there's a spy in camp, and you are it." He 
gives him at the same time some bright-colored badge, that 
he must wear as soon as he has secured the Medicine Scalp. 
He must not hide the scalp on his person, but keep it in 
view. He has all day till sunset to get away with it. If 
he gets across the river or other limit, with warriors in close 
pursuit, they give him ten arrowheads (two and one half 
cents each), or other ransom agreed on. If he gets away 
safely and hides it, he can come back and claim fifteen 
arrowheads from the Council as ransom for the scalp. If 
he is caught, he pays his captor ten arrowheads, ransom 
for his life. 



Games for the Camp 211 

THE SCOUT MESSENGER 

This is played with a scout and ten or more Hostiles, or 
Hounds, according to the country; more when it is rough 
or wooded. 

The scout is given a letter addressed to the "Military 
Commandant"* of any given place a mile or two away. He 
is told to take the letter to any one of three given houses, 
and get it endorsed, with the hour when he arrived, then 
return to the starting-point within a certain time. 

The Hostiles are sent to a point halfway, and let go by 
a starter at the same time as the scout leaves the camp. 
They are to intercept him. 

If they catch him before he delivers the letter he must 
ransom his life by paying each two arrowheads (or other 
forfeit) and his captor keeps the letter as a trophy. If he 
gets through, but is caught on the road back, he pays half 
as much for his life. If he gets through, but is over time, 
it is a draw. If he gets through successfully on time he 
claims three arrowheads from each Hostile and keeps the 
letter as a trophy. 

They may not follow him into the house (that is, the 
Fort), but may surround it at one hundred yards distance. 
They do not know which three houses he is free to enter, but 
they do know that these are within certain narrow limits. 

The scout should wear a conspicuous badge (hat, shirt, 
coat, or feather), and may ride a wheel or go in a wagon, 
etc., as long as his badge is clearly visible. He must not 
go in female dress. 

A CHALLENGE FOR SCOUT MESSENGER 

On day, 1913, the Sinawa Tribe of Cos Cob, 

Conn., will send a letter by one man into the town of 

*The " Military Commandment " is usually the lady of the house that he gets to. 



212 The Book of Woodcraft 

Jellypot (two miles o£F) and will have him bring again an 
answer within the space of three hours; and hereby 
challenge any twenty picked warriors of the Flying Eagles 
of New Jersey to capture or hinder the delivery of said 
letter. On this the messenger will stake his scalp or any 
other agreed forfeit according to the rules of the game of 
Scout Messenger. 

TREE THE COON 

This is an indoor game, founded on the familiar ''Hunt 
the Thimble." 

We use a little dummy coon; either make it or turn a 
ready-made toy rabbit into one, by adding tail and black 
mask, and cropping the ears. Sometimes even a little 
rag ball with a face painted on it. 

All the players but one go out of the room. That one 
places the coon anywhere in sight, high or low, but in plain 
view; all come in and seek. The first to find it sits down 
silently, and scores i. Each sits down, on seeing it, giving 
no clue to the others. 

The first to score 3 coons is winner, usually. Sometimes 
we play till every one but one has a coon; that one is the 
booby. The others are first, second, etc. 

Sometimes each is given his number in order of finding 
it. Then, after 7 or 8 coons, these numbers are added up, 
and the lowest is winner. 



NAVAJO FEATHER DANCE 

An eagle feather hung on a horsehair, so as to stand up- 
right, is worked by a hidden operator, so as to dance and 
caper. The dancer has to imitate all its motions. A 
marionette may be used. It is a great fun maker. 



Games for the Camp 213 

FEATHER FOOTBALL OR FEATHER-BLOW 

This is an indoor, wet-weather game. 

The players hold a blanket on the knees or on the table. 
A soft feather is put in the middle. As many may play as 
can get near. They may be in sides, 2 or 4, or each for 
himself. At the signal " Go ! " each tries to blow the feather 
off the blanket at the enemy's side, and so count one for 
himself. 

A game is usually best out of 7, 11, or 13. 

COCK-FIGHTING 

Make 2 stout sticks, each 2 feet long (broomsticks will 
do). Pad each of these on the end with a ball of rag. 
These are the spurs. Make an 8-foot ring. The two 
rivals are on their hunkers, each with a stick through be- 
hind his knees, his hands clasped in front of the knees, and 
the arms under the ends of the spurs. 

Now they close; each aiming to upset the other, to make 
him lose his spurs or to put him out of the ring, any of 
which ends that round, and scores i for the victor. If 
both fall, or lose a spur, or go out together, it is a draw. 
Battle is for 3, 5, 7, 11, or 13 rounds. 

ONE-LEGGED CHICKEN FIGHT 

In this the two contestants stand upon one leg, holding 
up the ankle grasped in one hand behind. Points are 
scored as above, but it is a defeat also to drop the up leg. 

STRONG HAND 

The two contestants stand right toe by right toe, right 
hands clasped together; left feet braced; left hands free. 



214 The Book of Woodcraft 

At the word "Go!" each tries to unbalance the other; 
that is, make him Uft or move one of his feet. A lift or 
a shift ends the round. 
Battles are for best out of 3, 5, 7, or ii rounds. 

BADGER-PULLING 

The two contestants, on hands and knees, face each other. 
A strong belt or strap is buckled into one great loop that 
passes round the head of each; that is, crosses his nape. 
Halfway between them is a dead line. The one who pulls 
the other over this line is winner. 

The contestant can at any time end the bout by lowering 
his head so the strap slips off; but this counts i against him. 

Game is best out of 5, 7, 11, or 13 points. 

STUNG, OR STEP ON THE RATTLER — SOMETIMES 
CALLED POISON 

This is an ancient game. A circle about three feet across 
is drawn on the ground. The players, holding hands, make 
a ring around this, and try to make one of the number step 
into the poison circle. He can evade it by side-stepping, 
by jumping over, or by dragging another fellow into it. 

First to make the misstep is "it" for the time or for next 
game. 

Sometimes we use a newspaper with a switch lying 
across it. Each when stung sits down. When one only 
is left he is the Rattler, and may sting each of the others 
with the switch across their hand. 

BUFFALO CHIPS 

When I was among the Chipewyan Indians of Great 
Slave Lake, in 1907, 1 made myself popular with the young 
men, as well as boys, by teaching them the old game of 
hat-ball or Buffalo Chips. 



Games for the Camp 215 

The players (about a dozen) put their hats in a row near 
a house, fence, or log (hollows up) A dead-Une is drawn 
10 feet from the hats; all must stand outside of that. The 
one who is "it" begins by throwing a soft ball into one of 
the hats. If he misses the hat, a chip is put into his own, 
and he tries over. As soon as he drops the ball into a hat, 
the owner runs to get the ball; all the rest run away. The 
owner must not follow beyond the dead-line, but must 
throw the ball at some one. If he hits him, a chip goes into 
that person's hat; if not, a chip goes into his own. 

As soon as some one has 5 chips he is the Buffalo ; he wins 
the booby prize: that is, he must hold his hand out steady 
against the wall, and each player has 5 shots at it with the 
ball, as he stands on the dead-Une. 



RAT-ON-HIS-LODGE 

Each player has a large, smooth, roundish stone, about 
4 or 5 inches through. This is his rat. He keeps it per- 
manently. 

The lodge is any low boulder, block, stump, bump, or 
hillock on level ground. A dead-line is drawn through the 
lodge and another parallel, 15 feet away, for a firing line. 

The fellow who is "it," or "keeper," perches his rat on 
the lodge. The others stand at the firing-line and throw 
their rats at his. They must not pick them up or touch 
them with their hands when they are beyond the dead- 
line. If one does, then the keeper can tag him (unless he 
reaches the firing-line) , and send him to do duty as keeper 
at the rock. 

But they can coax their rats with their feet, up to the 
dead-Hne, not beyond, then watch for a chance to dodge 
back to the firing-line, where they are safe at all times. 



2i6 The Book of Woodcraft 

If the rat is knocked oJBF by any one in fair firing, the 
keeper is powerless till he has replaced it. Meantime, most 
of the players have secured their rats and got back safe to 
the firing-Une. 

By using bean bags or sandbags instead of stones 
this may be made an indoor game. 

WATCHING BY THE TRAIL 

This is a game we often play in the train, to pass the time 
pleasantly. 

Sometimes one party takes the right side of the road 
with the windows there, and the other the left. Sometimes 
all players sit on the same side. 

The game is, whoever is first to see certain things agreed 
on scores so many points. Thus: 

A crow or a cow counts i 

A horse 2 

A sheep 3 

A goat 4 

A cat 5 

A hawk 6 

An owl 7 

The winner is the one who first gets 25 or 50 points, as 
agreed. 

When afoot, one naturally takes other things for points, 
as certain trees, flowers, etc. 

TRAILING 

A good traiUng stunt to develop alertness and obser- 
vation is managed thus: One fellow wearing the tracking 
irons is deer. He is given 100 beans, 30 slices of potato 
and 10 minutes start. He has to lay a track, as crooked 
as he pleases, dropping a bean every 3 or 4 yards and a slice 



Games for the Camp 217 

of potato every 20. After ten minutes' run the deer has 
to hide. 

The trailers follow him, picking up the beans and 
potato slices. Each bean counts i point, each slice of 
potato 2. The one who linds the deer scores 10 for it. 

APACHE RELAY RACE 

One band is pitted against another, to see who can carry 
a message and bring a reply in shortest time, by means of 
relays of runners. One mile is far enough for an ordinary 
race. This divides up even 220 yards to each of eight 
runners. The band is taken out by the Chief, who drops 
scouts at convenient distances, where they await the arrival 
of the other runner, and at once take the letter on to the 
next, and there await the return letter. 

A good band of 8 can carry a letter a mile and bring the 
answer in about 9 minutes. 

THE WEASEL IN THE WOOD 

The old French Song game much like our game of *'But- 
ton,Button," orthe Indian Moccasin game, is given in the 
Section on Songs, etc. 

THROWING THE SPEAR 

This was popular among Indians until the rifle made the 
spear of little use. 

The spear is of a straight, slender stafif of ash or hickory, 
about 7 feet long. It should have a steel point, the 
weight should be chiefly in the head end; that is, the 
balancing point should be 2 feet from the head. A tuft 
of colored feathers or hair near the light end helps the spear 
to fly straight, and is a distinctive ornament. 



21 8 The Book of Woodcraft 

The target should be a burlap sack stuffed tight with 
straw and ranged as for archery. Make it big, 6 feet 
square, if possible, and always begin so close to it that you 
at least hit the sack nearly every time. Afterward you 
can work off to the correct range of 30 feet. 

WATER-BOILING CONTEST 

Given a hatchet and knife, i match, a 2-quart pail, 7 
inches or less in diameter, one quart of water and a block 
of soft wood about 2 feet long and 5 or 6 inches through. 

Any one should have the water boiling in 10 minutes. 
The record is said to be 7.59 

First cut plenty of wood. Spend three minutes on it. 
Support your pail on four pegs driven in the ground. If 
water is handy dip the pegs in it before placing. 

The water must be jumping and bubbling all over the 
surface or it is not boiling. 

If the first match goes out, contestants are usually al- 
lowed a second, but are penalized by having 2 minutes 
added to their time. 

MEDLEY SCOUTING 

The following competition in Medley Scouting took 
place at one of my camps. A prize was offered for the 
highest points in the following: 

At the word, "Go." 

Bring a leaf of sugar-maple; and tell how it differs from 
other maples. 

Tell a short story. 

Bring a leaf of poison ivy (wrapped in a thick paper, to 
avoid touching it), and describe the poison, and mode of 
counteracting it. 



Games for the Camp 219 

Mark off on a stick your idea of a yard. 

Bring a leaf of witch hazel, and tell what it is good for. 

Show a bed made by yourself in camp of woods material. 

Bring a leaf of beech, and tell how it differs from those 
most like it. 

Show a dancer's war club made by yourself in camp, and 
tell what they are used for. 

Dance a step; any — English, Irish, Scotch, or Indian. 

Strike a match and light a lamp; both of them im- 
aginary. 

Show a birch-bark utensil or article made by yourself. 

Make a map of North America from memory in 10 
minutes. 

Boil a quart of water in a 2-quart pail, given i match, 
a hatchet, and a stick of wood. You should do it inside of 
12 minutes. 

Give an imitation of some animal, actions or sounds. 

Play the part of an Indian woman finding her warrior 
dead. 

For each of the first 20 competitors, points were given; 
the prize adjudged by the total. 

Some of these stunts may seem trivial, but there was a 
purpose in each, and that purpose was served. In the 
Indian widow, for example, we wished to select the best 
actor for play. Most of the fellows failed. Two were good, 
but one, nearly the smallest in camp, was so fine that he 
brought tears into the eyes of many. 

The selection of the various leaves impressed these kinds 
on all, especially those who failed to bring the right ones. 

The song and dance was introduced to cultivate the 
spirit of going fearlessly in and doing one's best, however 
poor it might be; and the elements of handicraft were 
recognized in birch-bark vessel and war club. 



220 The Book of Woodcraft 

By the bed competition, all were taught how easy it is 
to make one's self comfortable in the woods. 

The water-boiling was particularly instructive and was 
tried twice. The first time the winner took 14 minutes, 
and the second best 20. The last time, the winner's time 
was 8 minutes, and the second one's 10. 

Even the imitations of monkey, lynx, cat, panther, 
moose, etc., developed a keen observation, and a lot of 
good natural history that was intensely interesting a? well 
as amusing. 



X^ Health and Woodland Medicine 

FIRST AID. (Rudimentary) 
(Second Aid, and best, is bring the doctor) 

TO REVIVE FROM DROWNING 

^ S SOON as the patient is in a safe place, loosen the 
/Jm clothing if any. 
JL jL (2) Empty the lungs of water, by laying the 
body breast down, and lifting it by the middle, with the 
head hanging down. Hold thus for a few seconds, till the 
water is evidently out. 

(3) Turn the patient on his breast, face downward. 

(4) Give artificial respiration thus: by pressing the 
lower ribs down and forward toward the head, then 
release. Repeat about twelve times to the minute. 

(5) Apply warmth and friction to extremities, rubbing 
toward the heart. 

(6) DON'T GIVE UP! Persons have been saved after 
hours of steady effort, and after being under water over 
twenty minutes. 

(7) When natural breathing is reestablished, put the 
patient into warm bed, with hot-water bottles, warm drinks, 
or stimulants, in teaspoonfuls, fresh air, and quiet. Let 
him sleep, and all will be well. 



222 The Book of Woodcraft 

SUNSTROKE 

(i) Reduce the temperature of the patient and the 
place — that is, move the patient at once to a cooler spot, 
if possible, in the shade. 

(2) Loosen or remove the clothing about the neck and 
body. 

(3) Apply cold water or ice to the head and body, or 
even wrap the patient in sheets wet from time to time with 
cold water. 

(4) Use no stimulant, but allow free use of cold water 
to drink. 

BURNS AND SCALDS 

Exclude the air by covering the burn with a thin paste 
of baking-soda, starch, flour, vaseline, oUve oil, Hnseed 
oil, castor-oil, lard, cream, or cold cream. Cover the 
burn first with the smear; next with a soft rag soaked in 
the srnear. 

Shock always accompanies severe burns, and must be 
treated. 

HEMORRHAGE, OR INTERNAL BLEEDING 

This is usually from the lungs or stomach. If from the 
lungs, the blood is bright-red and frothy, and is coughed 
up; if from the stomach, it is dark, and is vomited. Cause 
the patient to lie down, with head lower than body. Small 
pieces of ice should be swallowed, and ice-bags, or snow, 
cold water, etc., applied to the place whence it comes. 
Hot applications may be applied to the extremi- 
ties, but avoid stimulants, unless the patient is very 
weak. 



Health and Woodland Medicine 223 

CUTS AND WOUNDS 

After making sure that no dirt or foreign substance is 
in the wound, the first thing is tight bandaging — to close 
it and stop the bleeding. The more the part is raised 
above the heart — the force-pump — the easier it is to do 
this. 

If the blood comes out in spurts, it means an artery has 
been cut; for this, apply a twister or tourniquet — that is, 
make a big knot in a handkerchief, tie it round the limb, 
with the knot just above the wound, and twist it round with 
a stick till the flow is stopped. 

LIGHTNING 

To revive one stunned by a thunderbolt, dash cold water 
over him. 

SHOCK OR NERVOUS COLLAPSE 

A person suffering from shock has pale, dull face, cold 
skin, feeble breathing, rapid, feeble pulse, listless, half- 
dead manner. Place him on his back with head low. Give 
stimulants, such as hot tea or coffee, or perhaps one drink 
of spirits. Never remove the clothing, but cover the 
person up. Rub the limbs and place hot-water bottles 
around the body. Most persons recover in time, without 
aid, but those with weak hearts need help. 

FAINTING 

Fainting is caused by the arrest of the blood supply to the 
brain, and is cured by getting the heart to correct the lack. 
To aid in this have the person lie down with the head lower 
than the body. Loosen the clothing. Give fresh air. 



224 The Book of Woodcraft 

Rub the limbs. Use smelling-salts. Do not let him get 
up until fully recovered. 



MAD DOG OR SNAKE BITE 

Put a tight cord or bandage around the limb between the 
wound and the heart. Suck the wound many times and 
wash it with hot water to make it bleed. Burn it with 
strong ammonia or caustic or a white-hot iron; or cut out 
the wounded parts with a sharp knife or razor, if you can- 
not get to a doctor. 

INSECT STINGS 

Wash with oil or weak ammonia, or very salt water, or 
paint with iodine. 

TESTS OF DEATH 

Hold a cold mirror to the nostrils or mouth. This shows 
at once if there is any breath. Push a pin into the flesh. 
If living, the hole will close again; if dead, it will remain open. 

CINDERS OR SAND IN THE EYE 

Can be removed with the tip of a lead-pencil, or the wet 
end of a tiny roll of soft paper. I have seen a woman 
lick the cinder out of her child's eye when other means 
were lacking. 



BOOKS RECOMMENDED 

" First Aid " By Major Charles Lynch. P. Blakiston Sons & Co., 
1017 Walnut St., Philadelphia, 191 1. 30 cents. 



Health and Woodland Medicine 225 
Some Wildwood Remedies or Simples 

{In case no standard remedies be at hand.) 
For trees mentioned, but not illustrated here, see Forestry section. 

Antiseptic or wound-wash: Strong, salt brine, as hot as 
can be borne : a handful of salt in a quart of water. 

Balm for wounds: Balsam Fir. The gum was con- 
sidered a sovereign remedy for wounds, inside or out; it 
is still used as healing salve, usually spread on a piece of 
Unen and laid over the wound for a dressing. 

Bleeding, to stop, nose or otherwise: Gather a lot of leaves 
of witch hazel, dry them, and powder them to snuff. A 
pinch drawn up the nose or on a wound will stop bleeding. 
The Indians used a pinch of powder from a puff ball. 

Bowel complaint: Get about a pound of small roots of 
sassafras, or else two pounds of the bark, smashed up. 
Boil in a gallon of water till only one pint of the fluid is 
left. A tablespoonful of this three times a day is a good 
remedy for bowel trouble. 

Chills and fever: Two pounds of white poplar or white 
willow bark, smashed up and soaked for twenty-four hours 
in a gallon of water and boiled down to a pint, make a sure 
remedy for chills and fever. A dessertspoonful four times 
a day is the proper dose. 

A tea made of spice bush twigs is a good old remedy for 
chills and fever. Make it strong, and sip it hot all day. 

Cold or fever cure: A decoction of the poplar bark or 
roots of flowering dogwood is a good substitute for quinine, 
as tonic and cold cure, bowel cure, and fever driver. 

Cough remedy: (That is, to soften and soothe a cough:) 
Slippery elm inner bark boiled, a pound to the gallon, 
boiled down to a pint, and given a teaspoonful every hour. 

Linseed is used the same way, and is all the better if 
licorice or sugar of any kind be added. 



226 The Book of Woodcraft 





Spice bush. 




Sassafras. 




Golden willow. 



Health and Woodland Medicine 227 




Flowering dogwood 




Black cherry. 




Cherry leaf — teeth enlarged. 



228 The Book of Woodcraft 

Another woodland remedy is the syrup made by boiling 
down the sap of the sweet birch tree. 

Cough and irritated throat: Mix a spoonful of sugar with 
two of butter, and eat it slowly. This usually stops a 
hacking cough that would keep the patient from sleep. 

Cough and lung remedy: A pound of inner bark of black 
cherry, soaked twenty-four hours in a gallon of water and 
boiled down to one pint, makes a famous cough remedy and 
lung balm. A tablespoonful three or four times a day. 

Diuretic: A decoction of the inner bark of elder is a 
powerful diuretic. 

Face-ache: Heat some sand in the frying-pan, pour it 
into a light bag and hold it against the place. The sand 
should be as hot as can be borne. This treatment is good 
for most aches and pains. 

Inflammation of the eyes or skin: Relieved by washing 
with strong tea of the bark of witch hazel. 

Ink: The berries and leaves of red or staghorn sumac 
boiled together in water make a permanent black ink. 

Lung balm: Infusion of black cherry bark, root pre- 
ferred, is a powerful tonic for lungs and bowels. Good 
also as a skin wash for sores. When half wilted, the leaves 
are poisonous to cattle. 

Nose-bleed: A snuff made of the dried leaves of witch 
hazel stops nose-bleed at once, or any bleeding. 

Nose stopped up at night: Wet the nose outside, as well 
as in, with cold water, and prop the head up higher with 
pillows. 

Pimples and skin rash: A valuable tonic or skin wash for 
such troubles is strong tea made of the twigs of alder. 

Poison ivy sting, to cure: Wash every hour or two with 
soapy water as hot as can be borne, then with hot salt 
water. This reheves the sting, and is the best simple 
remedy. The sure cure is washing the parts two or three 



Health and Woodland Medicine 229 




Elder. 




Wintergreen. 



Poison ivy. 



230 



The Book of Woodcraft 




times in alcohol in which is dissolved sugar-of-lead, 20 
to I. This will cure the sores in three days unless the 
trouble is complicated with rheumatism, in which case 

you need a doctor. 
The same remarks 
apply to poison oak 
and poison sumac. 

Purge, mild: A de- 
coction of the inner 
bark of butternut, 
preferably of root, is a 
safe, mild purge. Boil 
a pound in a gallon of 
water till a quart only 
is left. A teaspoonful 
of it is a dose. 

Purge, strong: The 
young leaflets of elder 
are a drastic purgative. They may be ground up and taken 
as decoction, boiling a pound in a gallon of water till it 
makes a quart. Use in 
very small doses — one 
teaspoonful. 

Purge, fierce: The root, 
fresh or not long dry, of 
blueflag, should be pow- 
dered and given in twenty- 
grain doses. A grain is 
about the weight of a grain 
of wheat, or one twenty- 
fourth of an ounce; so 
twenty grains is what will 

cover a quarter-dollar to the depth of one sixteenth inch. 
Rheumatism: Put the patient in bed. Make him drink 



Witch hazel. 




Poison sumac. 



Health and Woodland Medicine 



231 



plenty of hot water, or better a thin extract of sassafras, 
or tea made of wintergreen leaves. Keep very warm, so 
as to get a good sweat. Rub him all over, especially the 
place afflicted, with grease or vaseline. The only use of 
these last things is to protect the skin. It is the rubbing 
that does the good. 




Alder. 



The Indian treatment was a Turkish bath, as described 
later. 

Sores and wounds: Can be cleansed by washing with 
hot brine, that is a handful of salt in a quart of water. 

Sunburn: If you take your sunburn gradually, a little 
each day, it doesn't hurt. But if you are foolhardy at first, 
and expose your white skin, arms, or neck and back to the 
blaze of the summer sun for a few hours you will pay a 
heavy price. At night you will be in a torment of fever- 
fire. The punishment may last for days. Huge blisters 
w'U arise, and you may be obliged for a time to give up all 



232 



The Bcx>k of Woodcraft 



active sports. As soon as you find you are overbumt, put 
cold cream, vaseline, sweet-oil, or grease of any kind on the 
place, and keep it covered up. In a day or two you will be 
well. 

But it is best to go slow. Do not get overdone at all, and 
so have no damage to repair. 




Male-fern. 

Sweater: A famous woodman's sweater is tea made from 
the leaves and twigs of hemlock. Make a gallon of about 
two pounds of twigs, etc., and sip it all day. 




Tapeworm: Boil a pound of smashed-up male-fern or 
evergreen fern root in a gallon of water till but a pint of 
fluid is left. A teaspoonful three or four times a day — 
followed by a purge — is a famous remedy. 



Health and Woodland Medicine 



233 



Tonic: An infusion or tea of black alder bark is a 
wonderful tonic, and a healer of the skin, inside and out. 
Boil a pound of bark in a gallon of water till a quart is 
left. Take half a cupful four times a day. This is a 
bracer for the feeble constitution. 

Tonic: A fine tonic is made from the twigs of sweet 
birch, by boiling two pounds of twigs in a gallon of water, 
till it makes about a pint of strong brown tea, which should 
be sipped, about half a pint a day. 




Sumac. 



Tonic: A decoction, or boiled in water extract, of almost 
any part of the red sumac tree, is a powerful tonic. Make 
it of two pounds of sumac in a gallon of water boiled to a 
pint. Take a big spoonful twice a day. 

Wash for sore throat: Inner bark of hemlock is a power- 
ful astringent and good as a throat wash. A pound of 
bark in a gallon of water is boiled to a quart. 

Worms: The berries of black alder used as tincture 



234 The Book of Woodcraft 

(bruised in alcohol) are a powerful remedy for worms. A 
dessertspoonful three times a day is a dose. 

Worms and tonic: The inner bark and root bark of tulip 
tree, either as dry powder or infusion, are powerful tonics 
and especially good for worms. 

Wound-wash. See Antiseptic. 

For other remedies, see Dr. Elisha Smith's "Botanic 
Physician," Cincinnati, 1844. 

AN INDIAN BATH OR SWEAT LODGE 

A Turkish bath in the woods is an interesting idea. The 
Indians have always used this style of treatment and, with 
their old-time regard for absolute cleanHness, took the bath 
once a week, when circumstances permitted. 

Their plan was to make a low, round-topped lodge, about 
five feet high and as much across, by bending over a number 
of long willow poles with both ends stuck in the ground. 
A few slender cross-bars lashed on here and there com- 
pleted the skeleton dome. This was covered over with a 
number of blankets, or waterproof covers of canvas, etc. 
A shallow pit was dug near one side. The patient stripped 
and went in. A fire was made previously close at hand, and 
in this a number of stones heated. When nearly red-hot, 
these were rolled in, under the cover of the Sweat Lodge 
into the pit. The patient had a bucket of water and a cup. 
He poured water on the hot stones, a dense steam arose, 
which filled the Lodge, causing the intense heat, which could 
be modified at will. The more water on the stones the 
greater, of course, the steam. Meantime, the patient 
drinks plenty of water, and is soon in a profuse sweat. 
Half an hour of this is enough for most persons. They 
should then come out, have a partial rub-down, and plunge 
into cold water, or have it thrown over them. After this a 



Health and Woodland Medicine 235 

thorough rub-down finishes, and the patient should roll up 
in a blanket and lie down for an hour. Aromatic herbs or 
leaves are sometimes thrown on the stones to help the 
treatment. 

This is fine to break up a cold or help a case of rheu- 
matism. I have found it an admirable substitute for the 
Turkish bath. 

LATRINE 

Nothing in camp is more important than the latrine or 
toilet. It is fully described on page 178. 

THE KEEN EYES OF THE INDIAN. DO YOU WISH TO HAVE 

THEM? 

Near-sightedness. An eminent eye doctor, Dr. W. H. 
Bates of New York, has found out how you can have 
sight as keen and eyes as good as those of the Indians 
who five out of doors. After eight years' study of the sub- 
ject he has established the following: 

a. The defect known as near-sight or short-sight seldom 
exists at birth, but is acquired. 

b. Besides being acquirable, it is preventable and in 
some cases curable. 

c. It comes through continual use of the eye for near 
objects only, during the years of growth. 

The Remedy. The remedy is, give the eye regular mus- 
cular exercise every day for Jar-sight by focussing it for a 
few minutes on distant objects. It is not enough to merely 
look at the far-off landscapes. The eye must be definitely 
focussed on something, like print, before the necessary 
muscular adjustment is perfect and the effect obtained. 

The simplest way to do this is — get an ordinary eye 
testing card, such as is sold for a nickel at any optician's. 



236 The Book of Woodcraft 

Hang it up as far off as possible in the schoolroom and use 
it each day. Train your eyes to read the smallest letters 
from your seat. 

By such exercises during the years of growth almost all 
short-sight or near-sight, and much blurred sight or astig- 
matism, may be permanently prevented. 

An interesting proof is found by Dr. Casey Wood in the 
fact that while wild animals have good sight, caged animals 
that have lost all opportunities for watching distant objects 
are generally myopic or short-sighted. In other words, 
nature adapts the tool to its job. 

DRY SOCKS 

A certain minister knowing I had much platform ex- 
perience said to me once, "How is it that your voice never 
grows husky in speaking? No matter how well I may be 
my voice often turns husky in the pulpit." 

He was a thin, nervous man, very serious about his work 
and anxious to impress. I repUed : "You are nervous before 
preaching, which makes your feet sweat. Your socks are 
wet when you are in the pulpit, and the sympathy between 
soles and voice is well known. Put on dry socks just 
before entering the pulpit and you need not fear any 
huskiness." 

He looked amazed and said: "You certainly have sized 
me up all right. I'll try next Sunday." 

I have not seen him since and don't know the result, but 
I know that the principle is sound — wet feet, husky 
throat. 

SHUT YOUR MOUTH AND SAVE YOUR LIFE 

This was the title of an essay by George Catlin, a famous 
outdoor man, who lived among the Indians, and wrote about 



Health and Woodland Medicine ^Z7 

them 1825 to '40. In this he pointed out that it is exceed- 
ingly injurious to breathe through your mouth; that, indeed, 
many persons injured their lungs by taking in air that 
was not strained and warmed first through the nose, and 
in many cases laid the foundation of diseases which killed 
them. 

don't turn out your toes much 

When you see a man whose toes are excessively turned 
out, you may know he was born and brought up on side- 
walks. He is a poor walker and will not hold out on an 
all day- tramp. 

The mountaineer and the Indian scout always keep their 
feet nearly straight. It is easier on the feet and it lengthens 
the stride; makes, in short, a better traveler. A glance 
at his tracks will tell you how a person walks. 

TOBACCO 

No Indian was allowed to use tobacco until a proven 
warrior. It was injurious to the young they said, but 
in the grown man if used only as a burnt sacrifice it helped 
in prayer and meditation. 

Some of the finest Indians, Spotted-tail for example, 
never smoked as a habit. 

In the New York Literary Digest for December 30, 
191 1, there appeared the following important article: 

INJURIOUSNESS OF TOBACCO 

The opinion that tobacco is injurious to the young and 
apparently harmless to adults, quoted in these pages recently 
from American Medicine, is adjudged by the editor of Good 
Health (Battle Creek, Mich., December) to be one of those half- 
truths which Tennyson tells us are "ever the blackest lies." 



238 The Book of Woodcraft 

He agrees heartily with the first part of it, but asserts that no 
respectable medical authority will be found to endorse the other 
half of it. Has the editor of American Medicine, he asks, never 
heard of tobacco blindness? And how about cancer of the lip 
and of the throat, diseases almost confined to smokers? Bou- 
chard, of Paris, an authority on diseases of the heart and blood- 
vessels, names tobacco, the writer goes on to say, as one of the 
leading causes of this deadly class of maladies. And this is 
by no means a new idea. Medical examiners tell us that nine 
tenths of the rejected applicants for the Army are refused on 
account of tobacco-heart. We read further: 

"King Edward died of tobacco-heart. Mark Twain was 
another victim of this disease. A king of Hungary fell off his 
horse some time ago and lost his life because of defective vision 
due to smoking. The death-rate from disease of the heart and 
blood-vessels has increased, within the last ten years, from 6 
per 100,000 to 24 per 100,000 or 400 per cent. Is there no 
evidence from these facts that it is not 'harmless to adults'? 

"No experienced coach will allow men in training for athletic 
events to make use of tobacco, so well known are its effects upon 
the heart. A well-known physician said to the writer just before 
the Yale-Harvard boat-race: 'I am sure Yale will be beaten, for 
the coach permits the men to use tobacco.' 

"The ill effects of tobacco upon the kidneys are familiar to all 
physicians. Statistics gathered some years ago showed that 
10 per cent, of all smokers have albumen in the urine. The 
physician forbids the use of tobacco or very greatly restricts its 
use in cases of Bright's disease. 

"But even on a priori grounds it may be safely said that 
tobacco is anything but harmless. The deadly effects of 
tobacco are well enough known. In very minute doses nicotin 
produces deadly effects. One tenth of a grain killed a goat, and 
a much smaller dose killed a frog. The farmer uses tobacco 
leaves and stems to kill ticks on sheep. An eminent German 
botanist has recently shown that tobacco, even in minute 
quantities, produces pernicious effects on plants. 

"Numerous investigators have shown that pigeons are proof 
against anthrax, a disease very deadly to sheep. Charrin 
showed that after giving to a pigeon a very small dose of nicotin 
the creature quickly dies when infected with the anthrax germ. 



Health and Woodland Medicine 239 

"Doctor Wright, of London, showed that nicotin lowers the 
tuberculo-opsonic index of the blood; that is, it lowers the power 
of resistance of the body against tuberculosis. He cited the case 
of a young man who was a great smoker and whose tuberculo- 
opsonic index was zero instead of loo. The young man was 
suffering from tuberculosis and died within a few weeks. 

"Post-mortem examination made at the Phipps Institute 
showed that smokers are twice as subject to tuberculosis as 
non-smokers. " 

These are only a few of the thousand facts, the writer goes on, 
that might be cited on his side of the question. Nothing in 
them shows that there is any distinction between the child and 
the adult, and the fact that the effects are often less apparent 
in the latter is due, we are told, solely to the fact that they 
possess greater vital resistance than children. Finally, he 
remarks : 

"We would remind the editor to review the study of phys- 
iologic chemistry and pathology, and consult a few up-to-date 
standard works on the practice of medicine in relation to the 
cause of Bright's disease, arteriosclerosis, angina pectoris and 
other maladies involving the heart and blood-vessels, the death- 
rate from which has kept even pace along with the increase of 
tobacco during the last thirty or forty years. " 

SEX MATTERS 

Some of our best authorities tell us that more than half 
of our diseases, mental and physical, come from ignorance 
and consequent abuse of our sexual powers. 

We have long known and realized vaguely that virtue 
and strength are synonymous; that the Puritan fathers, 
for example, notwithstanding their narrowness and their 
unlovely lives, were upon the whole a people of pure life, 
who reaped their reward in their wonderful mental, moral, 
and physical strength, not entirely gone to-day. 

All men realize the desirability of virtue; and hitherto 
we have attempted to keep our young people virtuous by 
keeping them ignorant. Most thinking men to-day admit 



HO The Book of Woodcraft 

and maintain that as a protection ignomnce is a sad 
failure. 

It is far better for the parent to teach the child the truth 
— the sacred truth — by degrees, as he or she is ready for 
it. Most children are ready at seven or eight to know 
something about the process of procreation, especially if 
they live on a farm where they see it all about them. 

No boy is any the worse for learning of these things. All 
are better for knowing them. 

Rest assured of this, more nations have been wiped out 
by sex abuse than by bloody war. The nation that does 
not bring up its youth with pure ideals is certainly going 
to destruction. 

Every leader of boys should talk frankly to his charges 
and read to them or have them read: 

"From Youth Into Manhood," by Dr. Winfield S. Hall. 
Y. M. C. A. Press, 124 East Twenty-eighth Street, New 
York. 

STARVATION FOODS IN THE NORTHERN WOODS 

For a man who is lost, the three great dangers in order 
of importance, are Fear, Cold, and Hunger. He may endure 
extreme hunger for a week and extreme cold for a day, but 
extreme fear may undo him in an hour. There is no way of 
guarding against this greatest danger excepting by assur- 
ing him that he is fortified against the other two. 

Starvation is rare in warm regions and I suppose that 
no one ever starved during the late summer and early 
autumn. The woods then are full of roots, nuts, and berries 
that, as a rule, are wholesome and palatable, and usually 
there is a large amount of small game at this season. 

The greatest danger of starvation is in the far north 
during winter. By the far north I do not mean the Polar 
regions, where few go and where life usually depends on 



Health and Woodland Medicine 241 

keeping touch with the ship, but the wooded regions of 
Canada and Alaska where there are hundreds, yes, thou- 
sands of travelers each year, and where each year one hears 
of some one dying of starvation, through ignorance of the 
few emergency foods that abound in that country. 

Fish are not iiicluded among these foods, for the wanderer 
in the snow is not likely to be equipped with fish hook, 
spear or net. The fish, moreover, are in winter protected 
by ice of great thickness. Animal food is exceedingly 
scarce at such times, the forms most Ukely to be found are 
rabbits, mice, insect-borers, ants, and rawhide gear. Of 
course the mounted Indian never starved, because he would 
bleed his horse each day and live on the blood; taking care 
that his steed had fodder enough to keep up his strength. 
But we must assume that this source of food is not avail- 
able — that our traveler is on foot. 

A well-known explorer states in his book that northern 
expeditions should be undertaken chiefly or only in rabbit 
years — that is, when rabbits are at the maximum of their 
remarkable periodic increase. While there is some truth 
in this, we must remember, first, a rabbit year in one 
region is not necessarily a rabbit year in another, so we 
could not foretell with certainty what would be a season of 
abundant food in the region proposed for the expedition; 
second, men will at any risk go into the vast northern 
wilderness every year, for it is destined to be the great field 
for exploration, and every traveler there ought to know 
the foods he can count on finding at all times. 

Rabbits. If when in straits for food he have the luck 
to be in a rabbit country, he should select a thicket in 
which their tracks and runs are very numerous. By quietly 
walking around it, he is likely to see one of these silent, 
ghostlike hares, and can easily secure it with his gun. 
Without a gun his next best reliance is on snares. Stringy 



242 



The Book of Woodcraft 



a shoelace, a buckskin thong, or even a strip of clothing, 
may be used as a snare. There are many ways of making 
o, rabbit snare, but the simplest is the best. The essentials 
are, first, the snare — an ordinary running noose; second, 
a twitch-up; that is either a branch bent down, or a pole 
laid in the crotch of a sapUng. If the nearest saphng does 
not have a crotch the twitch-up can be fastened to it with a 
willow withe. 




Pole for rabbit snare and various ways of setting the noose. 



The snare is fast to the end of the pole, and spread open 
in a well-worn runway. The loop is about four inches 
across and placed four inches from the ground. The pole 
twitch-up is held down by placing the cross-piece of the 
snare under some projecting snag, as shown. The rabbit, 
bounding along, puts his head in the noose, a slight jerk 
frees the cross piece from its holder, and in a moment the 
rabbit is dangUng in the air. The cross piece can be 
dispensed with if the snare be wrapped three or four times 
around a snag. The squaws often build a Httle hedge 
across a rabbit thicket, so as to close all but three or foul 



Health and Woodland Medicine MS 

runs, each of which is guarded by a snare. They then drive 
the rabbits back and forth, capturing several at each drive. 

Mice swarm in all the northern country wherever there is 
heavy sedge, or where the ground is deeply buried in moss, 
and that means most of the Far North. If I were seeking 
for mice I should pick out a sedgy hollow, one evidently 
not actually a pond in summer, and dig through snow and 
tangle down to the runways, at the level of the ground. 
If one has traps they may be set here with the certainty of 
taking some game within a few hours. But usually the 
mice are so common that they may be caught by hand. 
I have frequently done this, taking a hint from the method 
of a fox hunting mice. He advances very slowly, watching 
for a movement in the cover. As soon as this is seen he 
seizes the whole tussock, and, after the death squeeze, 
separates his victim from the grass. 

Deep snow, unfortunately, puts the mice beyond reach, 
and excludes them from the bill of fare when most needed. 

Ants, the next on our list, are usually to be found dor- 
mant in dead and hollow trees, sometimes in great numbers. 
Bears and flickers eat them in quantities, and I have met 
with men who claim to have done so, but I never tried 
them myself and suspect that they are unpleasantly acid. 

Insect-borers. These are the fat white grubs that winter 
under the bark of trees and in dead timber. They are 
accounted acceptable food by bears and by most birds, 
which is almost if not quite conclusive evidence that they 
are good for human food. Their claws, nippers, and 
spines should be removed. To get them one must have 
an axe. 

Rawhide, or even leather, if boiled for hours, will make a 
nutritious soup. Many a man has bridged the awful gap 
by boiling his boots, whence the phrase to express the final 
extreme, ''I'll eat my boots first." Mark Twain was once 



244 The Book of Woodcraft 

put to this final resort and recorded afterward that "the 
holes tasted the best." 

But the hardest case of all is the best for present dis- 
cussion. That is the case of the man who has not happened 
on a rabbit region and who has neither gun nor axe, string 
nor rawhide. He must look entirely to the vegetable world 
for sustenance, as do all the northern natives in times of 
direst famine. 

Bark and buds. In the forest region are several foods 
that are available in the depth of winter. First of these is 
the thin green outer skin or bark, the white innermost bark, 
and the buds (not the middle brown bark) of quaking asp 
or white poplar. The brown bark is highly charged with 
a bitter principle, partly tannin, that makes it unpalatable 
as well as unwholesome. Aspen bark is a favorite food 
with elk, deer, beavers, squirrels, rabbits, and mice in 
winter. I found that by boiling it for some hours it is 
reduced to a gelatinous and apparently nutritious mass. I 
have also found the buds of basswood a palatable food 
supply. In my early days, in the backwood of Canada, we 
children frequently allayed our hunger with basswood buds 
and spruce and tamarac shoots. 

Dr. C. C. Curtis informs me that in British Columbia the 
natives eat the inner bark of willows, hemlock, and other 
trees, and I have often heard of the Indians eating the 
innermost bark of birch. 

All these are common foods with herbivorous animals. 
Man, having a less capable stomach, will do well to pre- 
digest such by roasting or long boiling. 

Toadstools. There is yet another supply that is commonly 
shunned, namely — toadstools. No toadstool growing on 
trees is known to be poisonous, and most contain nutriment 
— especially the birch polyporus, which grows on birch 
trees and has pores instead of gills. A toadstool gnawed 



Health and Woodland Medicine HS 

by mice or squirrels is usually good. References to the 
article on toadstools will show that none but the Amanitas 
are deadly, and these are well known by their white or 
yellow gills, their parasol shape, the ring on their upper 
stem, and the cup out of which they spring. They grow 
on the ground in the woods. 

Lichens. But the surest food supply of all is that from 
the lowly lichens, which exist in enormous quantities 
throughout the great land of big hunger and little sticks. 
Doctor C. C. Curtis says: 

"All lichens are rich in carbohydrates; lichen starch or 
lichenin, constituting 40 to 60 per cent, of the bulk of 
the higher forms." 

They supply winter food to all the northern quadrupeds. 
The reindeer, the white hare, the musk-ox, and the lemming 
find in them their chief support; and those which do not 
live directly on the lichen do so indirectly by preying on 
those who do. 

They are not choice dainties for human food. But 
Richardson, the famous northern naturalist, and the party 
with him, as well as unnumbered Eskimos and travelers, 
have Uved for weeks on the lichens when other food has 
failed. 

The kinds most useful are the Iceland moss {Cetraria 
icelandica), the reindeer moss {Cladonia rangiferina) , and 
the rock- tripe or famine-food {Umbilicaria arctica), and 
other species. To these we might add the Lucanora 
esculenta or manna lichen, the manna of the Bible; but as 
this is an old-world species it is not within the intended 
scope of this article. 

The Iceland moss is a rigid, erect, branching moss, almost 
like a seaweed, and of brown color. It aboimds in 
most northern latitudes. Richardson speaks of the Barren 
Grounds being covered with Cetraria of two species. When 



246 



The Book of Woodcraft 



boiled for an hour, it is highly nutritious. Those who wish 
to familiarize themselves with its appearance as a pre- 
liminary of northern travel can see it in most drug shops. 

The reindeer moss is by far the most abundant of the food 
"lichens. There are thousands of square miles in the barren 
northern country, deeply covered with reindeer moss. It 
is indeed the most abundant form of vegetable Hfe, the 




XT*tiin support of the reindeer, and the ever-present and 
obvious guarantee to the traveler that he need not starve. 
It is readily known by its soft gray-green color and its 
branching like a little tree without leaves. It grows on 
rocks or on the ground, and masses sometimes hke sponges. 
[t is said to be a nutritious food. It is gritty unless col- 
lected carefully and washed. This latter, fortunately, is 
easily done, for grit sinks in the water and the moss floats 
when fresh. 

Boiling is the usual way of cooking it. Reindeer moss 
from Connecticut, however, I boiled for several hours 
without producing any evident change. It continued to be 
tough and unpalatable, and tasteless except for a slight 
suggestion of fish oil. 

Roasting was more successful than boihng. When care- 
iuUy browned, I found it tasted not unHke burnt bread 



Health and Woodland Medicine 247 

crumbs, and, of course, was easily chewed. While roasting 
it gave ofi a smell, like seaweed. 

Rock-tnpe. But the la=t, the rock-tripe or famine-food 
of the Indians, has proved the most satisfactory of all the 
starvation foods that I have experimented with. Every 
one knows it as the fiat leathery crinkle-edged lichen that 




G. Muhl. 





Rock-tripes. 

grows on rocks. It is blackish and brittle in dry weather, 
but dull dark greenish on the upper side in wet. It is 
largely composed of nutritious matter that can be assimi- 
lated by the human stomach. Unfortunately it is also a 
powerful purge, unless dried before being boiled, as food. 
Specimens gathered from the rocks in Connecticut — it is 
very widely distributed even in New England — after dry- 
ing and two or three hours boiling, produced a thick muci- 
laginous liquid and a granular mass of solid jelly, that were 



248 



The Book of Woodcraft 



mild and pleasant to the taste, entirely without the bitter- 
ness of Cetraria, etc. Indeed, it was sweetish, with a slight 
flavor of licorice and of sago, far from unpalatable at any 
time, and to a starving man, no doubt, a boon from heaven. 
It is less abundant in the north country than the reindeer 
moss, but yet of general distribution and to be found in 
great quantities and at all seasons of the year. 




Ledum palustre. 




Ledum 

groenlandicum 

or Labrador Tea. 



Rock-tripe is the food that saved the life of Sir John 
Franklin and Dr. J. Richardson on their long and desper- 
ate journey for three months, in the summer and autumn 
of 182 1, on foot from Fort Enterprise to the Polar Sea and 
back. The record of that expedition shows that when they 
were out of game, as soon happened, their diet was varied 
with burnt bones when they could find them and toasted 



Health and Woodland Medicine 249 

leather and hide; but the staple and mainstay was rock- 
tripe. It is not delicious food, nor is it highly nutritious, 
but it will sustain Hfe, and every traveler should know 
what it is like and how to use it. 

Drinks. It will be a fitting conclusion to this question of 
foods if we note one or two possible drinks. Franklin and 
Richardson used Labrador tea as a hot drink. This is an 
infusion of the plants figured here. But good and slightly 
nourishing drinks are made also of the buds, sprouts, or 
inner bark of spruce, basswood, tamarac, birch, and es- 
pecially of slippery elm. 



XL Natural History 

Our Common Birds or Forty Birds that Every Boy 
Should Know 

THE Bald Eagle or White-headed Eagle {Ealiaelos 
leucocephalus) is the emblem of America. It is 
three to four feet from beak to tail, and six or 
jeven feet across the wings. When fully adult it is known 
by its while head, neck and tail, and the brown body; but 
when young it is brownish black, splashed and marked 
with dull white. 

The only other eagle found in the United States is the 
Golden or War Eagle {Aquila chrysaetos). This is a little 
larger. When full grown it is dark brown, with the basa) 
half of tail more or less white. The plumage of the young 
birds is somewhat like that of the young Bald Eagle; but 
the two species may always be distinguished by the legs. 
The War Eagle wears leggings — his legs are feathered to 
the toes. He is ready for the warpath. The Bald Eagle 
has the legs bald, or bare on the lower half. 

Redtailed Hawk or Henhawk ( Buteo horealis) . The com- 
mon hawks of America are very numerous and not easy 
to distinguish. The best known of the large kinds is the 
Redtail. This is about two feet long and four feet across 
the wings. In general it is dark brown above and white 
beneath, with dark brown marks; the tail is clear reddish 
with one black bar across near the tip. In young birds 

250 



Natural History 



251 



the tail is gray with many small bars. It has four primaries 
notched on the inner web. The legs are bare of feathers 
for a space above the toes. It is common in North 




Bald Eagle 



Redtailed Hawk or Henhawk. 



America east of the Rockies up to mid-Canada. It does 
much good, killing mice and insects. It is noted for its 
circling flight and far-reaching whistle or scream. 

The Barred or Hoot Owl {Strix varia) . This Owl is known 
at once by the absence of horns, the black eyes and the 
plumage barred across the chest and striped below that. 
It is about twenty inches long, in general gray-brown 
marked with white. It is noted for its loud hooting; it 
is the noisiest owl in our woods. Found in the wooded 
parts of America up to about latitude 50 degrees, east of 
the Plains. 



252 The Book of Woodcraft 

Great Horned Owl or Cat Owl {Bubo virginianus). This 
is the largest of our Owls. About twenty-four inches long 
and four feet across the wings. It is known at once by its 
great ear tufts, its yellow eyes, its generally barred plumage 
of white, black and buff, and its white shirt front. This 
is the winged tiger of the woods. Noted for its destruction 
of game and poultry, it is found throughout the timbered 
parts of North America. 

Screech Owl {Otus asio). This is not unlike the 
Horned Owl in shape and color but is much smaller — only 
ten inches long. Sometimes its plumage is red instead 
of gray. It feeds on mice and insects and has a sweet 
mournful song in the autumn — its lament for the falling 
leaves. It is found in the timbered parts of North America. 

Turkey Vulture or Buzzard {Cathartes aura) . The Turkey 
Vulture is about two and a half feet long and about six 
feet across its wings. It is black everywhere except 
on the under side of the wing which is gray, and the 
head which is naked and red. It is known at once by the 
naked head and neck, and is famous for its splendid flight. 
It is found from Atlantic to Pacific and north to the Sas- 
katchewan. It preys on carrion. 

In the Southern States is another species — the Black 
Vulture or Carrion Crow — which is somewhat smaller 
and wears its coat collar up to its ears instead of low on 
the neck; also its complexion is dusky not red. 

Loon {Gavia immer). The common Loon is known by 
its size — thirty-two inches long and about four feet across 
the wings — and its brilliant black and white plumage. 
It is noted for its skill as a fisher and diver. Its weird 
rolling call is heard on every big lake in the country. 

Common Seagull (Larus argentatus). The common Sea- 
gull is twenty-four inches long and four feet across. The 
plumage is white with blue-gray back, when adult; but 



Natural History 



2S3 




Barred or Hoot Owl. 




Great Homed Owl. 




Turkey Vulture or Buzzard. 



Screech Owl 



254 



The Book of Woodcraft 



splashed brown when young, and with black tips to the 
wings. Its beak is yellow with red spot on the lower 
mandible. It is found throughout North America. 




Loon. 




Common Seagull. 

Pelican (Pelecanus erythrorhynchos) . The white Pelican 
is known at once by its great size — about five feet long 
and eight feet across the wings — by its long beak, its 
pouch, and its feet fully webbed. Its plumage is white, 
but the wing tips are black. It is found in the interior of 
America up to Great Slave Lake. 

Wild Duck or Mallard (Anas platyrhynchos). Of all our 
numerous wild ducks this is the best known. It is about 
twenty-three inches long. Its bottle-green head, white 



Natural History 



255 



collar, chestnut breast, penciled sides and curled up tail 
feathers identify it. The female is streaky brown and 
gray. It is found in all parts of the continent, up to the 
edge of the forest. This is the wild duck from which tame 
ducks are descended. 




Pelican. 



Wood Duck or Summer Duck (Aix sponsa). This beau- 
tiful duck is about eighteen inches long. Its head is 
beautifully variegated, bottle-green and white. Its eye is 
red, its breast purpUsh chestnut, checkered with white 
spots, while its sides are buff with black pencilings. This 



256 



The Book of Woodcraft 




Wild Goose, Canada Goose or Honker 



is one of the wildest 
and most beautiful of 
ducks. It nests in hol- 
low trees and is found 
in North America up to 
about latitude 50 de- 
grees. 

Wild Goose, Canada 
Goose or Honker {Branta 
canadensis). This fine 
bird is about three feet 
long. Its head and neck 
are black; its cheek 
patch white; its body 
gray; its tail black with 
white coverts above and 
below. It is found up 
to the Arctic regions, 
and breeds north of 
about latitude 45 de- 
grees. It is easily tamed 
and reared in captivity. 

Swan. There are two 
kinds of Swan found in 
America: The Trum- 
peter (Olor buccinator), 
which is almost extinct, 
is very large and has a 
black bill, and the Whis- 
tling Swan (piorcolumbi- 
anus), which is smaller 
— about five feet long 
and seven feet across. 
Its plumage is pure 



Natural History 



257 



white; its bill black, with a yellow spot near the eye. It is 
found generally throughout North America but is rare now. 
Bittern (Botaurus lengtiginosus) . This bird of marshes 
is about twenty-eight inches long and can stand nearly 
three feet high. Its general color is warm yellowish brown 
splashed with dark brown. The black mark on the side 




Bittern 



Great Blue Heron 



of the neck is a strong feature, and its bright green legs 
and beak are very distinctive. It is famous for its guttural 
call notes in the marshes, and is found throughout North 
America up to about latitude 60 in the interior. 

Great Blue Heron {Ardea herodias). This bird is com- 
monly called Blue Crane. Its great size will distinguish 
it. In general it is blue-gray above, white below; head, 



258 



The Book of Woodcraft 



white, with black hind head, crest and marks on neck, 
and shoulders. Its thighs are chestnut. It is found 
throughout North America to the limit of heavy tim- 
ber. 

Quail or Bohwhite {Colinus virginianus). This famous 
and delicate game bird is about ten inches long. Its 
plumage is beautifully varied with reddish brown, lilac, and 
black markings, on a white ground. Its whistle sounds 
like "Bob White." It is found in eastern North America 
up to Massachusetts and South Ontario. 





Quail or Bobwhite 



RulGFed Grouse or Partridge 



Ruffed Grouse or Partridge {Bonasa urnbellus). It is 
known by its mottled and brown plumage, its broad and 
beautiful fan tail, and the black ruffs on each side of the 
neck. It is noted for its drumming, which is usually a 
love song — a call to its mate. Found in the heavy woods 
of North America, north of the Gulf States. 

Dove (Zenaidura macrourd). This is an abundant inhabi- 
tant of the farming country as far north as wheat is 
now grown. It is about twelve inches long, and known 



Natural History 259 

by its pigeon-like look, and its long wedge-shaped tail, 
with black and white marks on the feathers. Its breast 
is soft purplish gray. Its extinct relation, the once plentiful 
Passenger Pigeon, was eighteen inches long and had a 
reddish breast. 

Downy Woodpecker {Dryobates pubescens). About six 
and and a half inches long, black and white. In the male 
the nape is red, the outer tail feathers white, with black 
spots. Carefully distinguish this from its large relation the 
Hairy Woodpecker which is nine and a half inches long 
and has no black spots on the white outer tail feathers. 
A familiar inhabitant of orchards the year round, it is 
found in woods throughout eastern North America. 

Flicker or Eighhole {Colaptes auratus). This large and 
beautiful woodpecker is twelve inches long. Its head is 
ashy gray behind, with a red nape in the neck, and brown- 
gray in front. On its breast is a black crescent. The 
spots below and the little bars above are black, and the 
under side of wings and tail are bright yellow. The 
rump is white. Its beautiful plumage and loud splendid 
"clucker" cry make it a joy in every woodland. It is 
found throughout North America, east of the Rockies up 
to the limit of trees. 

Ruby-throated Hummingbird {Trochilus colubris) . Every 
one knows the Hummingbird. The male only has the 
throat of ruby color. It is about four inches long from tip 
of beak to tip of tail. This is the only Hummingbird 
found in the Northern States or Canada east of the 
Prairies. 

Kingbird {Tyrannus tyrannus). This bird is nearly 
black in its upper parts, white underneath, and has a 
black tail with white tip. Its concealed crest is orange 
and red. It is eight and a half inches long. Famous 
for its intrepid attacks on all birds, large and small, that 



26o 



The Book of Woodcraft 



approach its nest, it is found in North America east of the 
Rockies, into Southern Canada. 

Bluejay {Cyanocitta cristata). This bird is soft purplish 
blue above, and white underneath. The wings and tail 
are bright blue with black marks. It is found in the 




Dove. 



Flicker. 




Downy 
Woodpecker 




?''* Kingbird. 



Natural Htstory 



i6i 



woods of America east of the plains to about latitude 55. 
The Bluejay is a wonderful songster and mimic, but it is 
mischievous — nearly as bad as the crow indeed. 

Common Crow (Corvus hrachyrhynchos) . The Crow is 
black from head to foot, body and soul. It is about 




Bluejay. 




Bobolink 
or Reedbird. 



eighteen inches long and thirty wide. It makes itself a 
nuisance in all the heavily wooded parts of E. North 
America. 

Bobolink or Reedbird {Dolichonyx oryzivorus) . This bird 
is about seven and a half inches long. The plumage is 
black and white, with brown or creamy patch on nape; 
and the tail feathers all sharply pointed. The female, 
and the male in autumn, are all yellow buff with dark 
streaks. Though famous for its wonderful song as it flies 
over the meadows in June, it is killed by the thousands 
to supply the restaurants in autumn and served up under 



262 



The Book of Woodcraft 



the name Reedbird. It is found in North America, chiefly 
between north latitude 40 and 52 degrees. 

Baltimore Oriole {Icterus galbula). The Oriole is about 
eight inches long, flaming orange in color, with black head 
and back and partly black tail and wings. The female 
is duller in plumage. Famous for its beautiful nest, as 




Baltimore Oriole. 



Purple Grackle or Crow Blackbird. 



well as its gorgeous plumage and ringing song, it is abundant 
in Eastern North America in open woods up to Northern 
Ontario and Lake Winnipeg. 

Purple Grackle or Crow Blackbird {Quiscalus quiscald). 
This northern bird of paradise looks black at a distance 
but its head is shiny blue and its body iridescent. It is 
twelve inches long. When flying it holds its long tail with 
the edge raised Hke a boat, hence "^boat tail." In various 
forms it is found throughout the eastern States, and in 
Canada up to Hudson Bay. ^ 

Snowbird {Plectrophenax nivalis). About six and a half 
inches long, this bird is pure white, overlaid with brown 



Natural History 



263 



on the crown, back and sides. The wings, back and tail 
are partly black. The Snowbird nests in the Arctic regions 
and is common in most of temperate agricultural America, 
during winter, wherever there is snow. 





Snowbird. 




Song-sparrow. 



Scarlet Tanager. 



Song-Sparrow {Melospiza melodia). The Song-sparrow 
is about six and a half inches long — brown above — white 
underneath. It is thickly streaked with blackish marks 
on flanks, breast and all upper parts. All the tail feathers 
are plain brown. There is a black blotch on the jaw and 
another on the middle of the breast. Always near a brook. 



264 



The Book of Woodcraft 



It is noted for its sweet and constant song, and is found 
in all well wooded and watered parts of North America. 

Scarlet Tanager {Piranga erythromelas) . This gorgeous 
bird is about seven inches long. The plumage of the male 
is of a flaming scarlet, with black wings and tail; but the 
female is dull green in color. The Scarlet Tanager is 
found in the woods of eastern America, up to Ottawa and 
Lake Winnipeg. 

Purple Martin {Progne suhis). About eight inches in 
length, with long wings and forked tail, the Purple Martin 




Purple Maxtin. 



Bam Swallow, 



is everywhere of a shiny bluish or purplish black. Like 
the Kingbird it attacks any intruder on its lower range. 
This swallow is found in the wooded regions of east tem- 
perate America, north to Newfoundland and the Sas- 
katchewan. 

Barn Swallow {Eirundro erythrogaster) . About seven 
Inches long, this bird is steel-blue above, chestnut on 



Natural History 



265 



throat and breast, buffy white on belly. It is known by 
the long forked tail which is dark with white spots. 
Famous for its mud nest, it is found in open country 
about barns in America generally. 

Mockingbird (Mimus polyglottos) . About ten inches 
long, soft gray above, dull white beneath, wings and tail 




Mockingbird 



black and white, with no black on head — the Mocking- 
bird is famous for its song, and is found in United States 
north to New Jersey. 

Catbird (Dumetella carolinensis) . This northern Mock- 
ingbird is about nine inches long, dark slate in color, with 
a black-brown cap, black tail and a red patch "on the 
seat of its pants." It abounds in the Eastern States 
and Canada, north to Ottawa, Saskatchewan and British 
Columbia. 

Common House Wren (Troglodytes aedon). This little 
fairy is about five inches long; soft brewn above and brown- 



266 



The Book of Woodcraft 



ish gray below, it is barred with dusky brown on wings 
and tail. It nests in a hole, and is found in wooded 
America east of the plains, north to Saskatchewan. Ottawa 
and Maine. 

Chickadee {Penthestes atricapillus) . This cheerful little 
bird is five and a half inches long. Its cap and throat are 




Common House Wren. 





Robin. 



Chickadee. 



black. Its upper parts are gray, its under parts brownish^ 
its cheeks white, no streaks anywhere. It does not migrate, 
so it is well known in the winter woods of eastern America 
up to the Canadian region where the Brown-Capped or 
Hudson Chickadee takes its place. Its familiar song 
chickadee dee dee has given it its name. 

Wood Thrush {Hylocichla mustelinus). About eight 



Natural History 



267 



inches long, cinnamon-brown above, brightest on head, 
white below, with black spots on breast and sides, this 
thrush is distinguished from the many thrushes in 
America much like it, by the reddish head and round black 
spots on its under sides. It is found in the woods of eastern 
North America up to Vermont and Minnesota. 

Robin (Planesticus migratorius) . The Robin is about 
ten inches long, mostly dark gray in color, but with black 
on head and tail, its breast is brownish red. The spots 




•"Mi- 
Wood Thrush. 




Bluebird. 



about the eye, also the throat, the belly and the marks in 
outer tail feathers are white. Its mud nest is known 
in nearly every orchard. Found throughout the timbered 
parts of America north to the limit of trees. 

Bluehml {Sialia sialis). About seven inches long, bril- 
liant blue above, dull red-brown on breast, white below. 
Found in eastern North America, north to about latitude 
50 degrees in the interior, not so far on the coast. 



268 The Book of Woodcraft 

BOOKS RECOMMENDED 

"Handbook of the Birds of Eastern North America," 
By F. M. Chapman, Appleton, N. Y. Price $3.00. 
(Technical.) 

"Handbook of Birds of the Western United States," 
By Florence Merriam Bailey. Houghton, Mifflin & Co. 
Price, $3.50. (Technical.) 

"Bird Homes," By A. R. Dugmore. Doubleday, Page 
&Co. (Popular.) 

"Bird Neighbors," By Neltje Blanchan. Doubleday, 
Page & Co. (Popular.) 

"Birds That Hunt and Are Hunted," By Neltje 
Blanchan. Doubleday, Page & Co. (Popular.) 

How to Stuff a Bird 
(By E. T. S. from Country Life, July, 1904) 

A boy found a bird that was lying dead in the woods. 
Its beautiful plumage, its form and its markings delighted 
his eye. He carried it home to show to his mother and to 
ask its name. She admired it with him but she could not 
tell him what it was, and at length said, "Now go and 
bury it before it begins to smell." 

The boy had not given a thought to the history of the 
bird, nor had its death caused him a touch of sorrow. 
He was interested in it as a strange and beautiful thing, 
and the idea of burying all that beauty, or — worse — see- 
ing it corrupt, now gave him a deep regret. 

"How I wish I knew how to stuff it," he said, feeling 
that then he might always renew his present enjoyment. 
He was expressing the feeling of most young people when 
they see a dead bird. All would like to save its beautiful 
plumage at least. They know it can be done, but have 



Natural History 269 

an idea that it is a very difficult thing. In a sense this 
is true. It is so difficult to stuff a bird well, that not many 
men in the world to-day can do it. As with all arts, there 
can be but few masters. But the main process itself is 
easy to learn ; and if the boy who tries to do it fails in making 
a Ufe-like bird of his specimen, he at least does three 
things: he saves its beautiful plumage; he adds to his bird 
acquaintance; and he gains a keener appreciation of the 
work of others. 

While each taxidermist has his own methods, all agree 
in the main. The directions here given are those, recom- 
mended by good authorities, and that I have found most 
practical in my own work. 

There are two ways of preserving a bird: 

(a) By making a skin. 

(b) By mounting the bird. 

MAKING A SKIN 

The first is removing and preserving the skin in such 
a way that it may always serve to show what the bird's 
plumage is Hke. Most naturalists prefer to keep their 
specimens as skins, not only because it is easier and cheaper 
to do so, but because then they take up less room, and the 
skin may be properly mounted at any later time. 

These are the tools and materials used in making a 
skin: 

A sharp knife, a pair of stout, short scissors, and a pair 
of small forceps. (It is, however, quite possible to dispense 
with all but the knife and scissors in making a bird skin. 
I rarely use any tool but the scissors.) 

For materials you will need cotton wool, needle and 
thread, arsenical soap (some naturalists prefer dry white 
arsenic) and cornmeal (or fine hardwood sawdust). Some 



270 The Book of Woodcraft 

plaster of pans and benzine will also be required if the 
specimen is soiled with grease. 

The hardest birds to begin on are the very large ones, 
and the next hardest, perhaps, are the very small ones. 
The easiest birds are those about the size of a robin or 
bluejay (leaving out the woodpeckers). 

Supposing the specimen to be skinned is a robin: 

First put a little plug of cotton wool in its throat and 
mouth, also into any wounds the bird may have, to stanch 
the flow of blood, etc. This should be done the moment 
the bird comes into your possession. 

Now lay the bird on its back, tail toward your right 
hand, part the feathers, and make a slit from near the end 
of the breast-bone into the vent (S.V. Fig. i p. 356), taking 
care to cut only the skin, not the walls of the abdomen. 
Separate the skin from the flesh by pushing it with the 
finger nail or knife-blade. As soon as the flesh is exposed, 
put a pinch of meal on it to keep the feathers from sticking, 
and also to soak up oil, blood, etc. Some use plaster for 
this; but plaster is disagreeable under the finger nails, it 
takes the gloss off the feathers, and if the specimen happens 
to be a game-bird it injures the meat for the table. The 
plaster is better however for white, fluffy birds, as meal 
or sawdust lodges in the down. 

Push the skin from the body till the leg is readied. 
Work- the leg out of the skin till the knee-joint is clear 
on the inside of the skin; (H L, Fig, 2) cut the leg off at the 
knee, taking great care not to cut or tear the skin. The 
severed leg now hangs to the skin. When both legs are 
thus cut, work around the base of the tail, freeing the skin. 
Then cut straight through the bone and all, with the 
scissors, at the part marked with arrow and black line 
in Fig. 3 — leaving the tail bone with the tail hanging 
to the skin. 



Natural History 271 

This is one of the most difficult parts of the skinning. 
It is so hard to get at, and so easy to tear the skin, that 
one is to be congratulated if in the first lesson he safely 
"rounds Cape Horn." 

At all stages keep the meal applied to the body as fast 
as it is exposed, and in quantity enough to soak up all 
moisture; and avoid stretcliing the skin. 

With the tail and legs free, there is no difficulty in 
pushing the skin off until stopped by the wings. 

Cut them off at the shoulder joint deep in the muscles 
of the breast (W. W, Fig. 4), leaving them attached to the 
skin, just as the legs and tail are. 

The skin is now inside out. It can readily be worked 
along the neck and onto the head. Here it is stopped 
by the ears. In the robin these are like pockets of skin 
tucked into the small skull and may be easily pulled out 
without cutting. In large birds the knife must be used. 
The next and last difficulty is the eyes. The skin must 
be cut free from them, carefully avoiding injury to the 
eyelids or the eyeballs. 

Now the skin is attached only to the forepart of the 
skull (Fig. 4). Cut off the neck at the back of the skull 
and the skin is freed from the body, but needs careful 
cleaning. 

Dig the eyes out of the sockets, taking great care not 
to break the eyeballs, as their Uquid is very difficult to 
remove from the feathers. Cut out a section of the skull 
so as to enlarge the hole behind by extending it downward 
and sideways, as shown in Fig. 5, and remove the brains 
through this. Cut off any lumps of flesh left about the 
jaws, but do not break the jaw bone or its joints. 

Next turn attention to the wings. Push the skin back 
to the first joint (the elbow) in each. Cut and scrape 
the meat from the bone. But there is a joint beyond 



272 



The Book of Woodcraft 




Skinning and stuflSng a Robin 



Natural History 273 

this — the one that ' corresponds with our forearm. 
This must be reached in a different way. There are 
two bones in this, and the space between them is full 
of meat. The quill feathers on its under side hold the 
skin tight. In birds up to the size of a robin, this can 
be cut out after the skin is forced a Httle farther back 
than the elbow joint on the upper side, but in large birds 
it is well to sHt the skin under the wing from X to J (Fig. 
i), along the line between the two bones. 

Clean off the leg bones in the same way as the first wing 
joint, turning the skin back as far as the heel joint (H in 
Fig. 2). Carefully scrape off any lumps of fat left on the 
skin, and especially remove the grease and flesh about 
the tail bones. 

Now this is the time I have usually found most con- 
venient to remove stains from the plumage. 

If of blood, hold the stained feathers on the inside 
rim of a cup of lukewarm water and wash till clear. Then 
dry the feathers with cornrneal. The shaking and turning 
they get in the next operation will make them fluff out 
as before. 

If the stain is grease, use a cream made of benzine 
and plaster of Paris. Let this dry on the feathers. It 
dries as powder and faUs off, taking the grease with it. 

The next thing I now do is to tie the wing bones with 
a stout Hnen thread, so that their ends are shackled 
together as far apart as in life, (Fig. 6.) Some do not do 
this, but it strengthens the skin, and I find it a great 
help in several ways. 

Now comes the poisoning. After trying dry arsenic 
for long, I have come back to the old-fasliioned arsenical 
soap. It is much less liable to poison any one, since it 
is not blown about by the wind. It does not look like 
anything but soap and hence is unlikely to be mistaken 



274 The Book of Woodcraft 

for something good to eat. And last of all the soap in it 
takes care of the grease in the skin. 

Every part of the under side of the skin and of the 
bones exposed is to be painted with this cream of the soap. 
It is well now to lay a thin film of cotton over the skin 
or sprinkle it lightly with sawdust to keep the feathers 
from sticking in the soap. 

Make two tight round plugs of cotton each as big as the 
eyeball, put one into each eye-socket. 

Now push the head back into its place. This is easy 
when the neck is slippery with the soap. Work the wing 
and legs back into their places after wrapping each of the 
bones with enough cotton to take the place of the flesh 
cut off. This wrapping is not necessary with very small 
birds, but the larger the bird, the more it is needed. 

Make a neck of the cotton, push it with the forceps 
up the neck skin, and well into the skull. Let it hang 
into the body part, under the string that joins the wing 
bones. Push another soft wad up the neck and into the 
throat. 

Shape a large piece of cotton for the body; set it in place, 
and draw the skin gently over it till the opening is closed. 
In large birds it is well to stitch this up, but it is not 
needed in small ones. All that is needed now is the 
prinking. Use a needle through the openings of the eyes 
to fluff out the cotton balls in each, till they fill out the 
sides of the head properly. 

Set the innermost wing bones parallel with each other. 
Aim to arrange the feathers by arranging the skin and 
bones to which they are attached, rather than by prinking 
the feathers themselves. 

If the wing was slit open as at X J, (Fig. i), fill the 
space with cotton and close with a few stitches. 

If at any time it is necessary to leave the specimen half 



Natural History 275 

finished, wrap it in a damp cloth and put it in a close tin 
box. This will keep it from getting dry. 

In skinning large birds, a strong hook, attached to a 
string from the wall in front and above, is a great help. 
As soon as the tail is cut off stick this hook into the bony 
pelvis. It holds the bird away from you and answers 
as a third hand. 

Finally, make a little shroud out of a sheet of cotton 
and wrap the bird in this before setting it to dry. 

Cross the legs as in Fig. 7, and attach a label to these, 
giving date, sex and place where the bird was taken. 

The work is now done. But it is wise to lift the skin 
the next morning and see if all goes well. In a few days 
it will be dry and safe from ordinary corruption, but 
must be protected from moth and insects. 

This is a museum skin. It can be kept indefinitely 
in this shape, or at any time it can be softened up and 
mounted. 

MOUNTING THE BIRD 

For mounting the bird some additional tools and mate- 
rials are needed, namely: 

A pair of wire cutters. 

A pair of pliers. 

A file, 

Some glass eyes, 

Some annealed or soft iron wire of several sizes, 

Some tow, and a ball of stout packthread with needle 
to match. 

A few ordinary carpenter tools are needed to make the 
stand, but that is another department. 

The first part of the mounting is the skinning carried 
out exactly as in making the skin, up to the point where 
the cotton is put in. Now there is a difference. You 



276 The Book of Woodcraft 

cannot put a wire through cotton, therefore use no cotton 
in a bird to be mounted; use tow instead. Plug the eyes, 
wrap the legs and wings as before, but with tow. 

If it is a dry skin that is to be mounted remove the 
cotton body and replace it with a lump of cotton soaked 
with water. Wrap damp cloth or cotton around the 
outside of each leg, and on the bend of each wing. Shut 
this up in a tin box for twenty-four hours and it will be 
soft and can be treated like a fresh skin. 

Cut a wire (of stovepipe size) about a foot long. File 
a sharp point at one end and bend the other end into a 
hook (Fig. 8). Take tow in long strips and lash it tight 
over, around and through the hook — stitching it tight 
and binding it on with plenty of packthread — until you 
have a body the size and shape of the one you took out 
of the robin, with a neck on it also, like the bird's own 
neck (Figs. 9 and 10). Of course the real body should 
be at hand to give the measurements. Keep the neck 
lower than it appears, because the real neck is supple 
and drops low between the shoulders in a way not possible 
for the substitute. This body should be hard enough 
to hold a pin or needle driven into it; indeed some taxi- 
dermists use bodies carved out of cork. 

Put the point of the wire up the neck, and out through 
the top of the skull between the eyes (N. W. Fig. 11). 
Gently work the neck up to the back of the skull and the 
body into its place. 

Now make two other sharpened wires. Work one up 
through each foot under the skin of the leg, under the 
wrapping, and on straight through the hard body — which 
it enters about the middle of the side (X in Fig. 9). When 
this is far enough through clinch it and drive it back 
firmly into the body; taking care to avoid tearing the 
skin, by easing up the leg on the wire, as It is drawn back. 



Natural History 277 

Do the same for the other leg. Get the tail into its 
right place; drive a sharpened 3-inch wire through the 
pope's nose or tail bone into the body to hold it there; 
work the skin together till the opening can be closed with 
a few stitches; and now we are ready for the stand. The 
simplest is the best for the present purjjose. A piece 
of a board slightly hollowed on the under side is got ready 
in a few minutes. With an awl bore two holes through 
this about one inch apart and run a foot- wire through each. 
CHnch them on the under side, fastening them firmly 
with tacks or small staples. Now we are ready to give 
the robin its natural pose. This is done by bending 
the wires in the neck and legs. A wire or a large pin will 
have to be driven into each wing to hold it to the side, 
at least while drying (X, Fig, 11); and another in the 
middle of the back (B P, Fig. 11). 

The prinking of the specimen is now done chiefly with 
needles reaching through the feathers to the skin. Pins 
may be driven into the body anywhere to hold the skin 
or feathers in place; and cotton thread may be lashed 
around the body or the wings and around the projecting 
wire till everything is held in the position that is wished. 
Then the bird is set away to dry. 

In a week the specimen should be ready for the finishing 
touch — the putting in of the eyes. A plug of damp 
cotton is fastened on each eye-place the night before. 
In the morning the eyeUds are once more soft. The 
eyes are put through the opening in the sockets, the 
Uds neatly set around them. Some prefer to set them in 
a bed of putty or plaster of paris. Cut off the projecting 
wires flush, so that the feathers hide what is left, remove 
the thread lashings and the mounting of the robin is 
finished. 

The process is much the same for all birds, but the larger 



278 The Book of Woodcraft 

the bird the more difficult. Seabirds, ducks, and divers 
are usually opened at the back or under the side. Wood- 
peckers and owls and some others have the head so large 
that it will not come through the neck skin. This calls 
for a sUt down the nape of the neck, which, of course, is 
carefully sewn up in finishing. 

If the bird is to have its wings spread, each wing must be 
wired to the body in the way already set forth for the legs. 

If the bill keeps open when you want it shut, put a pin 
through the lower jaw into the palate toward the part 
in front of the eyes, or even wind a thread around the 
bill behind the pin (see Fig. 11). 

The mistakes of most beginners are: making the neck 
too long, stuffing it too full, or putting the body so far 
into it as to stretch the skin and show bare places. 

To make good accessories for a group of mounted birds 
is another very special business. It involves a knowledge 
of wax flowers, imitation woods, water, stones, etc., and 
is scarcely in the Une of the present book. Therefore the 
beginner is advised to use the simplest wooden stands. 

Not every one has the taste for natural history, but 
those who have will find great pleasure in preserving 
their birds. They are not urged to set about making a 
collection, but simply to preserve such specimens as fall 
in their way. In time these will prove to be many, and 
when mounted they will be a lasting joy to the youthful 
owner. If the museum should grow too large for the 
house, there are many pubUc institutions that will be 
glad to ofiFer their hospitaUty and protection. 

There is, moreover, a curious fatality attending a begin- 
ner's collection. It hardly ever fails. He speedily has 
the good luck to secure some rare and wonderful specimen 
that has eluded the lifelong quest of the trained and pro- 
fessional expert. 



Natural History 279 

(From Country Life, June 1904) 

OWL-STUFFING PLATE (p. 280) 

Fig. I. The dead owl, showing the cuts made in skinning it: 
A to B, for the body; El to H, on each wing, to remove the meat 
of the second joint. 

Fig. 2. After the skinning is done, the skull remains attached 
to the skin, which is now inside out. The neck and body are cut 
off at Ct. Sn to Sn shows the slit in the nape needed for owls 
and several other birds. 

Fig. 3. Top view of the tow body, neck end up, and neck 
wire projecting. 

Fig. 4. Side view of the tow body, with the neck wire put 
through it. The tail end is downward. 

Fig. 5. The heavy iron wire for neck. 

Fig. 6. The owl after the body is put in. It is now ready to 
close up, by stitching up the slit on the nape, the body slit B to 
C, and the two wing slits El to H on each wing. 

Fig. 7. A dummy as it would look if all the feathers were 
off. This shows the proper position for legs and wings on the 
body. At W is a glimpse of the leg wire entering the body at the 
middle of the side. 

Fig. 8. Another view of the body without feathers. The 
dotted lines show the wires of the legs through the hard body, 
and the neck wire. 

Fig. 9. Two views of one of the eyes. These are on a much 
larger scale than the rest of the figures in this plate. 

Fig. 10. The finished owl, with the thread wrappings on and 
the wires still projecting. Nw is end of the neck wire. Bp is 
back-pin, that is, the wire in the centre of the back, Ww and Ww 
are the wing wires. Tl are the cards pinned on the tail to hold 
it flat while it dries. In the last operation remove the thread 
and cut all these wires off close, so that the feathers hide what 
remains. 

STUFFING AN ANIMAL 

Mounting a mammal, popularl}'- called animal, is a much 
more difficult thing than mounting — that is, stuffing — a 
bird. 



28o 



The Book of Woodcraft 



fiij.i 1 ^«^j 




To illustrate the mounting of a Homed Owl. 



Natural History 281 

It is so difficult that I do not advise any boy to try 
It unless he has the time and patience to go into it seriously. 
To do this he should get some standard treatise on 
Taxidermy, such as: 

"Taxidermy and Z( ological Collecting," by W. T. 
Hornaday. (Scribners. $2.50) or 

"The Art of Taxidermy," by John T. Rowley. (Mac- 
millan's. $1.75.) 

Nevertheless all may learn to preserve the skins of 
small animals for cabinet collections, or for mounting 
at some later time. 

The best instructions for this are those issued by the 
Biological Survey of the United States Department of 
Agriculture. I reproduce them. 

PRESERVING SMALL MAMMAL SKINS 

By Dr. C. Hart Merriam 
Directions for Measurement 

The tools necessary for measuring mammals are a pair 
of compasses or dividers, a steel rule graduated in milli- 
meters, and two large pins. Dividers with round points 
are better than those with triangular points. 

All measurements should give the distance in a straight 
line between the points indicated. They should be taken 
by means of dividers, or by driving pins into a board 
to mark the points between which the measurement is 
desired. They should never be made with a tape-line 
over the convexities or inequalities of the surface. 

The three most important measurements, and those 
which should always be taken in the flesh are: (i) total 
length; (2) length of tail; (3) length of hind foot. 



282 



The Book of Woodcraft 





- a 




Natural History 283 

(i) The TOTAL LENGTH is the distance between the tip 
of the nose and the end of the tail vertebrae. It is taken 
by Ia3dng the animal on a board, with its nose against 
a pin or upright post, and by straightening the back and 
tail by extending the hind legs with one hand while holding 
the head with the other; a pin is then driven into the board 
at the end of the vertebrje. (See Fig. 2.) 

(2) The LENGTH OF TAIL is the length of the caudal 
vertebrae. It is taken by erecting the tail at right angle 
to the back, and placing one point of the dividers on the 
backbone at the very root of the tail, the other at the tip 
end of the vertebrae. (See Fig. 3.) 

(3) The HIND FOOT is measured by placing one point 
of the dividers against the end of the heel icalcaneum) , 
the other at the tip of the longest claw, the foot being 
flattened for this purpose. (See Fig. 4.) 

DIRECTIONS FOR THE PREPARATION OF SKINS 

Skin all mammals as soon as possible after death. 

Lay the animal on its back, and make an incision along 
the middle of the belly from just behind the fore legs 
nearly to the vent. Be careful not to stretch the skin 
while removing it, and exercise great caution in skinning 
around the eyes and Hps, which are easily cut. Skin as 
far down on the feet as possible, but leave in the bones 
of the legs. Remove the bone from the tail by pulling it 
between the fingers (in the larger species a split stick 
answers well). Take out the skull, being careful not to 
cut or injure it in any way, and wash out the brains by 
means of a syringe or jet of water. Remove the tongue, 
and cut off the thick flesh from the sides and base of the 
skull. Tie a tag to the skull, bearing the same number 



284 The Book of Woodcraft 

that is attached to the skin, and dry in the shade. In 
damp weather it is sometimes necessary to use powdered 
borax to prevent the remaining flesh from decomposing. 
Never put arsenic or salt on a skull. 

Remove all fat and tags of flesh that adhere to the 
skin. In cleaning off blood or dirt that may have soiled 
the hair an old toothbrush and a liberal supply of corn- 
meal will be found serviceable. 

Poison all parts of the skin with dry arsenic (or better 
still, with a mixture of powdered arsenic and alum in the 
proportion of four parts arsenic to one part alum), being 
particular to put an extra supply in the feet and tail. Put 
a wire in the body, letting it extend to the extreme tip of 
the tail, but be careful not to stretch the tail. Use annealed 
iron wire of as large size as will fit easily into the tip end of 
the tail. In rabbits, foxes, and wildcats put wires in the 
legs also. 

Stuff the skin to nearly its natural size with cotton or 
tow (never use wool, feathers, or other animal substances) ; 
sew it up along the belly, and place it flat on a board to 
dry (belly down), with the fore legs extended in front 
and parallel to the body {i. e., not projecting sideways), 
and the hind legs and tail directed backward. The 
accompanying cut (Fig. i) shows the appearance of a well- 
made skin. 

Attach to each skin a label bearing the same number 
that is given the skull. On this label should be stated 
the sex, locality, date of capture (name of month should 
always be written in full), and name of collector. 

All skins should be thoroughly dry before they are packed 
for shipment. They should be carefully wrapped in 
cotton and packed in small wooden boxes. Cigar-boxes 
do very well for the smaller species. 

Washington, D. C, March, 1889. 



Natural History 



285 



TRAPPING ANIMALS 

Trapping wild animals with steel traps is a wretchedly 
cruel business and will doubtless be forbidden by law 
before long. The old-fashioned deadfall which kills the 
animal at once is quite sufi&cient for all the legitimate 
work of a trapper. But many boys wish to capture animals 
alive without doing them any injury, and this is easily 
managed for most species if a ketchalive is used. The 



Wooden. Trif^r 




Section o[ Boxtrifj 01^ 



CS'et) 



ketchalive or old-fashioned box trap is made in a hundred 
different ways; but the main principles are shown in the 
illustration. The lock on the side is necessary for some 
species, such as skunks, that would easily lift the lid and 
escape. 

For skunks, cats, weasels, mink, rats, etc., use a piece 
of chicken as bait. 

For rabbits use bread, turnip, apple, or other vegetable. 

The trap should be visited every morning or not used 
at all. 

THE SECRETS OF THE TRAIL 

It was Fenimore Cooper who first put the good Indian 
on paper — who called the attention of the world to the 
wonderful woodcraft of these most wonderful savages 



286 The Book of Woodcraft 

It was he who made white men realize how far they had 
got away from the primitive. It was he who glorified 
the woodman and his craft. Yet nowhere do we find in 
Cooper's novels any attempt to take us out and show 
us this woodcraft. He is content to stand with us afar 
off and point it out as something to be worsliiped — to 
point it out and let it die. 

Fenimore Cooper has had many imitators, just as Uncas 
has had many successors. The fine art of trailing is still 
maintained in the Far West, and it has always seemed 
strange to me that none has endeavored to give it perma- 
nent record, other than superlative adjectives of outside 
praise. 

TRAILING 

What is trailing? The fox-hunter has some idea when 
he sees a superb pack follow a faint scent through a hundred 
perplexing places, discerning just wliich way the fox 
went, and about how long ago. The detective does another 
kind of trailing when he follows some trifling clue through 
the world of thought, tracing the secret of an unknown 
man along an invisible path, running it to earth at last in 
the very brain that conceived it. In his trailing the 
Indian uses the senses of the ''animal" to aid the brain 
of the man. To a great extent his eyes do the work of 
the hound's nose, but the nose is not idle. When the trail 
disappears, he must do the human detective work; but 
under all circumstances his brains must be backed by the 
finest senses, superb physique, and ripe experience, or 
he cannot hope to overmatch his prey. 

HARD TO PHOTOGRAPH TRACKS 

When, in 1882, 1 began my dictionary of tracks (see "Life 
Histories of Northern Animals"), I found that there was 



Natural History 287 

no literature on the subject. All facts had to be gathered 
directly from Nature. My first attempts at recording 
tracks were made with pencil and paper. Next, realizing 
how completely the pencil sketch is limited by one's own 
knowledge, I tried photography; but it invariably happens 
that not one track in ten thousand is fit for photographing, 
and it cannot be taken except when the sun is about thirty 
degrees above the horizon — that is, high enough to make 
a picture, and low enough to cast a shadow of every detail. 
Thus photography was possible only for about an hour in 
the early morning and an hour in the late afternoon. But 
the opportunity in the meanwhile usually was gone. I then 
tried making a plaster cast of the tracks in the mud. Only 
one such in a million was castable. As a matter of fact, 
none of the finest were in the mud; and the much more 
interesting dust- tracks were never within reach of this 
method. For most practical purposes I have been forced 
to make my records by drawing the tracks. 

NO TWO TRACKS ALIKE 

The trailer's first task is to learn the trails he means 
to follow. The Red Indian and the Bushman, of course, 
simply memorize them from their earliest days, but we 
find it helpful and much easier to record them in some way. 
Apart from other considerations, a form is always better 
comprehended if we reproduce it on paper. As a general 
principle, no two kinds of animals leave the same track. 
As a matter of fact, no two individuals leave the same 
trail. Just as surely as there are differences in size and 
disposition, so there will be corresponding differences in 
its trail; but this is refining beyond the purposes of prac- 
ticability in most cases, and for the present we may be 
satisfied to consider it a general rule that each species 



288 The Book of Woodcraft 

leaves its own clearly recognizable track. One of my daily 
pastimes when the snow is on the ground — which is the 
easiest and ideal time for the trailer, and especially for the 
beginner — is to take up some trail early in the morning 
and follow it over hill and dale, carefully noting any change 
and every action as written in the snow, and it is a won- 
derfully rewarding way of learning the methods and life 
of an animal. The trail records with perfect truthfulness 
everything that he did or tried to do at a time when he was 
unembarrassed by the nearness of his worst enemy. 
The trail is an autobiographic chapter of the crea- 
ture's life, written unwittingly, indeed, and in perfect 
sincerity. 

Whenever in America during the winter I have found 
myself with time to pass between trains, I endeavor to 
get out into the country, and rarely fail to find and read 
one of these more or less rewarding chapters, and thus 
get an insight into the Ufe of the animal, as well as into 
the kinds that are about; for most quadrupeds are noc- 
turnal, and their presence is generally unsuspected by those 
who do not know how to read the secrets of the trail. 

DOG AND CAT 

The first trails to catch the eye and the best for first 
study are those nearest home. Two well-marked types 
are the tracks of cat and dog. Most anatomists select 
the cat as the ideal of muscular and bony structure. It 
is the perfect animal, and its track also is a good one 
to use for standard. (Illustration i, p. 290.) 

In these separate prints the roundness of the toe-pads 
tells the softness; their spread from each other shows the 
suppleness of the toes; the absence of claw-marks tells of 
the retractability of these weapons. The front and hind 



Natural History 289 

feet are equal in length, but the front feet are broader. 
This is the rule among true quadrupeds. The series of 
tracks — that is, its trail — shows the manner of the cat 
in walking. In this the animal used apparently but two 
legs, because the hind foot falls exactly on the trail made 
by the front foot, each track being really doubled. This 
is perfect tracking. There are several advantages in it. 
Every teamster knows that a wagon whose hind wheels 
do not exactly follow the front wheels is a very bad wagon 
to haul in sand, snow, or mud. The trail for it has to be 
broken twice, and the labor increased, some say, 50 
per cent. This same principle holds good in the case of 
the cat track : by correct following the animal moves more 
easily. But there is still a more important reason. A 
hunting cat sneaking through the woods after prey must 
keep its eyes on the woods ahead or on the prey itself. 
At the very most it may pick out a smooth, safe, silent 
place for its front feet to tread on. Especially at the 
climax of the hunt all its senses are focussed on the intended 
victim; it cannot select a safe spot for each hind foot 
in turn, even though the faintest crunch of a dry leaf 
will surely spoil the stalk. But there is no danger of that; 
the cat can see the spots selected for the front feet, and the 
hind feet are so perfectly trained that they seek unerringly 
the very same spots — the safe places that the front 
feet have just left. Thus perfect stepping is silent stepping, 
and is essential to all creatures that stalk their prey. 
The opposite kind of stepping is seen in very heavy animals 
which frequent marshy ground; to them it would be a 
positive disadvantage to set the hind foot in the tread 
of the front foot, where so much of the support has just 
been destroyed. The ox illustrates this. These principles 
are applicable in geology, where the trails are the only 
biographical records of certain species. From the manner 



290 



The Book of Woodcraft 



#» 



front foot 



& 



I ill 






front 
foot 



^% 



•^' 



CtKfl 



ll 



•i^« 



«& 









hind foot 

No. I Cat. 



^ind foot 

No. 2 Dog. 



Natural History 291 

of setting the feet we can distinguish the predacious and 
the marsh-frequenting quadrupeds. 

The next track Hkely to be seen is that of the dog 
(Illustration 2). In this the harder, less pliant foot and 
the non-retractile claws are clearly seen. But the trail 
shows the dog is not a correct walker. His tracks are 
"out of register" as a printer would say. And he has 
a glaring defect — the result no doubt of domestication, 
of long generations on pavements and in houses — he drags 
his toes. All these things contribute to make the dog 
a noisy walker in the woods. 

WOLF 

It is well at this time to compare the track of the dog 
with that of the wolf. I have made dozens of drawings, 
casts, prints, photographs, and studies of wolf and dog 
tracks; and have not found a single reliable feature that 
will distinguish them. One hunter says the wolf has the 
relatively small outer toes. Yes, sometimes; but not 
when compared with a collie. Another says that the 
wolf's foot is longer; but not when compared with that 
of a greyhound, staghound, or lurcher. Another, the 
wolf's foot is larger; yet it will not rank in size with that 
of a St. Bernard or a great Dane. The wolf lifts his feet 
neatly without dragging his toes; but so do many dogs, 
especially country dogs. Thus all these diagnostics fail. 
On the whole a wolf is a better walker than a dog. His 
tracks do usually register, but not always, and in some 
wolves rarely. 

If a wolf-track in the snow be followed for a mile or two, 
it will be found to go cautiously up to an unusual or 
promising object. (Illustration 3.) It is obviously the 
trail of a suspicious, shy creature while the dog-trail 



292 



The Book of Woodcraft 



is direct, and usually unafraid. But this does not 
apply to the dogs which poach or kill sheep. There 
is therefore no sure means of distinguishing them, 




No. 3 Dog and Wolf. 



even in the wilderness. One can only judge by prob- 
abilities. 

I have often heard inexperienced hunters boast that 
they could "tell them every time"; but old hunters usually 
say,, " No man can tell for sure." 



Natural History 293 

RABBITS AND HARES 

America is well provided with rabbits and hares. A 
score or more of species are now recognized, and two very 
well-known types are the cottontail of the woods and the 
jack-rabbit of the plains. 

The cottontail is much like an English rabbit, but it 
is a httle smaller, has shorter ears, and the whole under 
part of the tail is glorified into a fluffy, snowy powder-puff. 
It leads the life of a hare, not making burrows, but entering 
burrows at times under the stress of danger. The track 
of a New England cottontail is given in Illustration 4. 

As the cottontail bounds, the hind feet track ahead 
of the front feet, and the faster he goes the faster ahead 
his hind feet get. This is true of all quadrupeds that bound, 
but is more obvious in the rabbits, because the fore and 
hind feet differ so much in size. 

The jack-rabbit of Kansas is the best known of the 
long-eared jacks. His trail, compared with that of the 
cottontail, would be as in Illustrations 5 and 6. 

The greater size of the marks and the double length 
of the bounds are the obvious but not important differ- 
ences, because a young jack would come down to the 
cottontail standard. The two reHable differences I found 
are: 

First, the jack's feet are rarely paired when he is bounding 
at full speed, while the cottontail pairs his hind feet but 
not his front ones. (Animals which climb usually pair 
their front feet in running, just as tree-birds hop when 
on the ground.) 

Second, the stroke that is shown (x in Illustration 5) 
is diagnostic of the southern jack-rabbit; it is the mark 
made by the long hanging tail. 

Each of the four types of hare common in the temperate 



294 



The Book of Woodcraft 






f 



p. *-•! 



% 



^ 



f 



rr 



f -2 

I i 

w 

4$ 



«p 




f 


«* 


^, 


« 




1 


« 


f 


« 




f 


r 


f 


No. 4 Cottontail. 


No. 


5 Jack-rabbit 


No. 6. 


No.,. 



Natural History 295 

parts of America has its own style of tail and fashion of 
wearing it: 

The northern or white-tailed jack carries his snowy- 
white tail out straight behind, so its general pure-white 
is visible; 

The southern or black-tailed jack has his tail jet-black 
on the upper part, and he carries it straight down; 

The varying hare has an inconsequent, upturned tuft, 
like a tear in his brown pantaloons, showing the white 
undergarment; 

The cottontail has his latter end brown above, but he 
keeps it curled up tight on his back, so as to show nothing 
but the gleaming white puff of cotton on a helpful back- 
ground of rich brown. The cottontail's tail never touches 
the ground except when he sits down on it. 

The most variable features of any animal are always 
its most specialized features. The jack-rabbit's tail-piece 
is much subject to variation, and the length and depth 
of the little intertrack-ial dash that it makes in the snow 
is a better guide to the individual that made it than would 
be the tracks of all four feet together. 

THE NEWTON JACK-RABBIT 

During February of 1902, I found myself with a day, 
to spare in the hotel ofl&ce at Newton, Kan. I asked 
the usual question, "Any wild animals about here?" and 
got the usual answer, "No, all been shot off." I walked 
down the street four blocks from the hotel, and found 
a jack-rabbit trail in the snow. Later I found some 
cottontail tracks, though still in town. I walked a mile 
into the coimtry, met an old farmer who said that "No 
rabbits were ever found around here." A quarter of a 
mile away was an orchard, and beside it a fence half buried 



2g6 The Book of Woodcraft 

in snow drifts that were yellow with tall dead grass sticking 
through. This was promising, so I went thither, and on 
the edge of the drift found a jack-rabbit form or den, with 
fresh tracks leading out and away at full speed. There 
were no tracks leading in, so he must have gone in there 
before the last snow came, and that was the night before. 

When a jack runs without fear of any enemy at hand, 
he goes much like a fox or an antelope, leaving a trail, as 
in No. 5. But when an enemy is close at hand he runs 
with long, low hops, from six to seven in succession, then 
gives an upright leap to take an observation, leaving 
a trail thus. (Illustration 7.) 

A silly young jack will lose time by taking one in three 
for observation, but a clever old fellow is content with one 
in ten. Here was the trail of this jack straight away, but 
taking about one observation in twelve hops. He had 
made a fence a quarter-mile off, and there had sat for some 
time observing, had then taken alarm and run toward a 
farmyard, a quarter-mile farther, taking occasional observa- 
tions. A dog was lying on a doorstep by the road, and 
past this dog he had run, doing twenty-foot leaps. Two 
hundred yards down this road he had turned abruptly, 
as though a human still in sight had scared him. I now 
began to think the jack was near at hand, although so far 
I had not seen him. The trail led through several barbed- 
wire fences and some hedges, then made for another barn- 
yard half a mile off. I was now satisfied that he was only a 
little ahead of me, therefore I ceased watching the track so 
closely, watching rather the open plain ahead; and far on, 
under a barbed-wire fence, sitting up watching me, I soon 
saw my jack. He ran at once, and the line of his hops, was 
so — (Illustration 8) — the high ones being for observation. 

No. 8. 



Natural History 297 

He never let me get within two hundred yards, and he 
wasted but little time in observation. He had now taken 
me on a two-mile circuit and brought me back to the 
starting point. So he had taught me this — a cunning 
old jack-rabbit Uved in the region around which I had 
followed him, for they keep to their homeground. All 
his ways of running and observing, and of using barbed- 






>/ . K 







/A^ J.^ 






^.^ 



X' 



4 



No. 9. Where the Jack-rabbit's track was doubled 

wire fences, barnyards, and hedges, showed that he was 
very clever; but the best proof of that was in the fact 
that he could live and flourish on the edge of a town that 
was swarming with dogs and traveled over daily by men 
with guns. 

The next day I had another opportunity of going to the 
jack-rabbit's home region. I did not see himself; but 



298 The Book of Woodcraft 

I saw his fresh tracks. Later, I saw these had joined on 
to the fresh tracks of another rabbit. I sketched all the 
salient points and noted how my big jack had followed 
the other. They had dodged about here and there, and 
then one had overtaken the other, and the meeting had 
been the reverse of unfriendly. I give the record that 
I sketched out there in the snow. I may be wrong, but 
I argue from this that the life of the hardy jack was not 
without its pleasures. (Illustration 9.) 

FOX 

Of more general interest perhaps is the track of the fox. 

I have spent many days — yes, and nights — on the 
trail, following, following patiently, reading this life of the 
beast, using notebook at every important march and 
change. Many an odd new sign has turned up to be put 
on record and explained by later experience. Many a 
day has passed with nothing tangible in the way of reward; 
then, as in all hunting, there has come a streak of luck, 
a shower of facts and abundant reward for the barren 
weeks gone by, an insight into animal ways and mind 
that could not have been obtained in any other way. 
For here it is written down by the animal itself in the 
oldest of all writing — a chapter of the creature's normal 
Ufe. 

One day, soon after the snow had come, I set out on one 
of the long decipherments. The day before I had followed 
a fox-trail for three or four miles, to learn only that he 
tacked up wind and smelt at every log, bump, and tree 
that stuck through the snow; that he had followed a 
white hare at full speed, but was easily left behind when 
the hare got into his ancient safety — the scrubby, brushy 
woods. 



Natural History 299 

This morning I took up another fox- trail. The frost 
was intense, the snow was dry and powdery and as each 
foot was raised it fell back; so that the track was merely 
shapeless dimples in the whiteness. No tell-tale details 
of toes and claws were there, but still I knew it for a 
fox-trail. It was too small for a coyote. There were 
but two others that might have been confounded with it; 
one a very large house-cat, the other a very small house- 
dog. 

The fox has the supple paw of the cat. It spreads even 
more, but it shows the long, intractile claws. As a stepper 
the fox ranks close to the cat. His trail is noted also 
for its narrowness — that is, the feet are set nearly in one 
straight Hne. This in a trail usually means a swift animal; 
while the badly spread marks, seen at a maximum in the 
badger, stand for great but sluggish strength. (Illustra- 
tion 10.) 

The region put the cat out of the reckoning. Besides, 
at one or two places, the paw had grazed the snow, showing 
two long furrows, the marks of claws that do not sheathe: 
dog-marks, perhaps, but never a cat's. The marks were 
aligned hke a cat's, but were fourteen inches apart, while 
it is rare for a cat to step more than ten. 

They were not dog-marks: first, the probabilities were 
against it; second, the marks were nearly in a Hne, showing 
a chest too narrow for a dog. Then the toes did not drag, 
though there was four inches of snow. The register 
could not be distinguished, but there was one feature 
that settled all doubt — the big, soft, shallow marks 
of the fox's brush, sometimes sweeping the snow 
at every yard, sometimes not at all for fifty steps, and 
telling me with certainty, founded in part on the other 
things — "This is the trail of a fox." 

Which way is he going? is the next question, not easy 



300 



The Book of Woodcraft 



to answer when the toe-marks do not show; but this is 
settled by the faint claw-marks already noted. If still 
in doubt, I can follow till the fox chances on some place 
under a thick tree or on ice where there is very little snow, 
and here a distinct impression may be found. I have 



*• 



> 



.• f^ 










. /. 





• 






* 






« 


'^m^/ 






*/^ 



No. lo. 



often seen a curiously clear track across ice made by a 
gentle breeze blowing away all the snow except that pressed 
down hard by the impact of the toes, so that the black 
ice under has a row of clear-cut, raised tracks, a line of fox- 
track cameos, cut sharp on a black-ice base. 



Natural History 301 

THE fox's hunt 

For a mile or two I followed my fox. Nothing happened. 
I got only the thought that his life was largely made up 
of nose investigation and unfavorable reports from the 
committee in charge. Then we came to a long, sloping 
hollow. The fox trotted down this, and near its lower 
end he got a nose report of importance for he had swung 
to the right and gone slowly — so said the short steps — 
zigzagging up the wind. Within fifteen feet, the tacks 
in the course shortened from four or five feet to nothing, 
and ended in a small hole in a bank. From this the 
fox had pulled out a common, harmless garter-snake, 
torpid, curled up there doubtless to sleep away the winter. 
The fox chopped the snake across the spine with his 
powerful meat-cutters, killed it thus, dropped it on 
the snow, and then, without eating a morsel of it as 
far as I could see, he went on with his hunt. (Illustra- 
tion II A.) 

Why he should kill a creature that he could not eat 
I could not understand. I thought that ferocious sort of 
vice was hmited to man and weasels, but clearly the fox 
was guilty of the human crime. 

The dotted guide led me now, with many halts and 
devious turns, across a great marsh that had doubtless 
furnished many a fattened mouse in other days, but now 
the snow and ice forbade the hunt. On the far end the 
country was open in places, with clumps of timber, and into 
this, from the open marsh, had blown a great bank of 
soft and drifted snow. 

Manitoban winters are not noted for their smiling 
geniality or profusion of outdoor flowers. Frost and snow 
are sure to come early and continue tiU spring. The 
thermometer may be for weeks about zero point. It 



302 



The Book of Woodcraft 



may on occasion dip down to thirty, yes, even forty, 
degrees below, and whenever with that cold there also 
comes a gale of wind, it conjures up the awful tempest 
of the snow that is now of world-wide fame as — the blizzard. 




No. II. The record of the Fox's hunt. 



The blizzard is a terror to wild life out on the plains. When 
it comes the biggest, strongest, best clad, rush for shelter. 
They know that to face it means death. The prairie 
chickens or grouse have learned the lesson long ago. What 
shelter can they seek? There is only one — an Eskimo 



Natural History 303 

shelter — a snow house. They can hide in the shelter of 
the snow. 

As the night comes, with the fearful frost and driving 
clouds of white, the chickens dive into a snowdrift; 
not on the open plain, for there the snow is hammered 
hard by the wind, but on the edge of the woods, where 
tall grass spears or scattering twigs stick up through 
and keep the snow from packing. Deep in this the chickens 
dive, each making a place for itself. The wind wipes out 
all traces, levels off each hole and hides them well. There 
they remain till morning, warm and safe, unless — and 
here is the chief danger — some wild animal comes by 
during the night, finds them in there, and seizes them before 
they can escape. 

This chapter of grouse history was an old story to the 
fox and coming near the woodland edge, his shortened 
steps showed that he knew it for a Land of Promise. (Illus- 
tration II, B.) 

At C he came to a sudden stop. Some wireless message 
on the wind had warned him of game at hand. He paused 
here with foot upraised. I knew it, for there was his record 
of the act. The little mark there was not a track, but 
the paw-tip's mark, showing that the fox had not set the 
foot down, but held it poised in a pointer-dog pose, as 
his nose was barkening to the tell-tale wind. 

Then from C to D he went slowly, because the steps 
were so short, and now he paused: the promising scent 
was lost. He stood in doubt, so said the tell-tale snow 
in the only universal tongue. Then the hunter turned 
and slowly worked toward E, while frequent broad 
touches in the snow continued the guarantee that the 
maker of these tracks was neither docked nor spindle- 
tailed. 

From E to F the shortened steps, with frequent 



304 The Book of Woodcraft 

marks of pause and pose, showed how the scent was 
warming — how well the fox knew some good thing 
was near. 

At F he stood still for some time with both feet set down 
in the snow, so it was written. Now was the critical 
time, and straight up the redolent wind he went, following 
his nose, cautiously and silently as possible, realizing 
that now a single heedless step might spoil the hunt. 

CLOSING IN 

At G were the deeply imprinted marks of both hind 
feet, showing where the fox sprang just at the moment 
when, from the spotless snowdrift just ahead, there broke 
out two grouse that had been slumbering below. Away 
they went with a whirr, whirr, fast as wing could bear 
them; but one was just a foot too slow; the springing fox 
secured him in the air. At H he landed with him on the 
prairie, and had a meal that is a fox's ideal in time of 
plenty; and now, in deep hard winter, it must have been 
a banquet of delight. 

Now for the first time I saw the meaning of the dead 
garter-snake far back on the trail. Snake at no time 
is nice eating, and cold snake on a cold day must be a mighty 
cold meal. Clearly the fox thought so. He would rather 
take a chance of getting something better. He killed 
the snake; so it could not get away. It was not likely 
any one would steal from him that unfragrant carcass, 
so he would come back and get it later if he must. 

But as we see, he did not have to do so. His faith and 
patience were amply justified. Instead of a cold, unpleasant 
snake, he fed on a fine hot bird. 

Thus I got a long, autobiographical chapter of fox-life by 
simply following his tracks through the snow (see heading). 



Natural History 



30s 



^ 



-••. 



i.««. 









I. 


Tracks 


of old man. 


2. 


<( 


" a young hunter 


3' 


(1 


" a city woman. 


4- 


n 


" dog. 


3. 


" 


" cat. 



Snapping Turtle. 



# 



.^' 



Brook Turtle. 



t^ 



§ 



3o6 



The Book of Woodcraft 



I never once saw the fox himself that made it, and yet I 
know — and you know — it to be true as I have told it. 




Deer. 





BOOKS AND ARTICLES RECOMMENDED 

"Tracks in the Snow," By E. T. Seton, St. Nicholas, 
March, 1888, p. 338, many diagrams, etc. 

"American Woodcraft," By E. T. Seton. 2 articles on 
tracks of animals. Ladies^ Home Journal. May and June, 
1902, many illustrations. 

"The Life Histories of Northern Animals," Two large 
volumes by Ernest Thompson Seton, dealing with habits 
of animals, and give tracks of nearly all. Scribners, 
1909. 

"Tracks and Tracking," Joseph B runner. 

"The Official Handbook," Boy Scouts of America. 
The American News Co. 50 cents. 

"Mammals of the Adirondacks," By C. Hart Merriam, 
M. D. Henry Hclt & Co., New York City, Price $2. 



XIL Mushrooms; Fungi^ 
or Toadstools 

Abundance 

SUPPOSE that during the night a swarm of fairies 
were to enter our home woods and decorate it on 
ground and trunk, with the most strange and won- 
derful fruits, of new sorts, unheard of in shapes and colors, 
some Hke fans, with colored lacework, some like carrots, 
others Uke green and gold balloons, some like umbrellas, 
spring bonnets, birds' nests, barbers' poles, and Indian 
clubs, many like starfish and skulls, others imitating corals 
and others lilies, bugles, oysters, beefsteaks, and wine cups, 
resplendent with every color of the rainbow, delicious to 
eat, coming from nowhere, hanging on no plant and dis- 
appearing in a few days leaving no visible seed or remnant 
— we should think it very strange; we might even doubt 
our eyesight and call it all a pure fairy tale. Yet this very 
miracle is what happens every year in our land. At least 
2,000 different kinds of toadstools or mushrooms spring up 
in their own mysterious way. Of this 2,000 at least 1,000 
are good to eat. But — and here is the dark and danger- 
ous fact — about a dozen of them are Amanitas, which are 
known to be deadly poison. And as ill-luck will have it these 
are the most widely diffused and the most like mushrooms. 
All the queer freaks, like clubs and corals, the cranks and 
tomfools, in droll shapes and satanic colors, the funny 
poisonous looking morels, ink-caps and boleti are good 

307 



3o8 The Book of Woodcraft 

wholesome food but the deadly Amanitas are like ordinary 
mushrooms, except that they have grown a little thin, 
delicate and anaemic. 



DANGERS 

The New York papers have told of over twenty deaths 
this August (191 1) through toadstool poisoning. The 
explanation possibly lies in a recorded conversation that 
took place between a field naturalist and a Uttle Italian 
who was indiscriminatingly collecting toadstools. 

"You are not going to eat those toadstools, I hope?" 

"No! me no eata de toad. My mudder she eata de toad 
and die; me no eata de toad; me sella de toad." 

All American boys are brought up with a horror of toad- 
stools that compares only with their horror of snakes and 
it is perhaps as well. I do not want to send our boys out 
heedlessly to gather toadstools for the table, but I want to 
safeguard those who are interested by laying down one or 
two general rules. 

This is the classification of toadstools that naturally 
occurs to the woodcrafter: Which are eatable and Which 
are not. 

Those which are not fit for food, may be so, first, because 
too hard and woodlike, and, second, because poisonous. 

The great fact that every boy should know is which 
are the poisonous toadstools. Mark Twain is credited 
with suggesting a sure test: "Eat them. If you live they 
are good, if you die they are poisonous.^' This is an example 
of a method that can be conclusive, without being satis- 
factory. 

What way can we suggest for general use? 

First, remember that there is nothing at all in the popular 
idea that poisonous mushrooms turn silver black. 



Mushrooms, Fungi, or Toadstools 309 

Next, "not one of the fungi known to be deadly gives 
warning by appearance or flavor of the presence of poison." 
(Mcllvaine.) 

The color of the cap proves nothing. The color of the 
spores, however, does tell a great deal; which is unfortunate 
as one cannot get a spore print m less than several hours. 
But it is the first step in identification; therefore the Scout 
should learn to make a spore print of each species he 
would experiment with. 

To make spore prints. Cover some sheets of blue or 
dark gray paper with a weak solution of gum arable — one 
tablespoonful of dry gum to one pint of water; let this dry. 
Unless you are in a hurry in which case use it at once. 

Take the cap of any full-grown toadstool, place it gill 
side down upon the gurmned paper, cover tightly with a 
bowl or saucer and allow to stand undisturbed for eight or 
ten hours. The moisture in the plant will soften the 
gummed surface if it is dry; the spores will be shed and 
will adhere to it, making a perfect, permanent print. Write 
the name, date, etc., on it and keep for reference. Some 
of the papers should be black to show up the white spored 
kinds. 

It will be found most practical for the student to divide 
all mushrooms, not into two, but into three, groups. 

First. A very small group of about a dozen that are 
poisonous and must be let alone. 

Second. A very large group that are good wholesome 
food. 

Third. Another very large group that are probably 
good and worthy of trial if it is done judiciously, but have 
not yet been investigated. 

Scientists divide them into: 
Gilled toadstools 
Pore bearers 



310 The Book of Woodcraft 

Spiny toadstools 
Coral toadstools 
Puffballs 
All the virulently poison ones as well as the most delici- 
ous are in the first group. 

POISONOUS TOADSTOOLS 

The only deadly poisonous kinds are the Amanitas. 
Others may purge and nauseate or cause vomiting, but it is 
believed that every recorded death from toadstool poison- 
ing was caused by an Amanita, and unfortunately they are 
not only widespread and abundant, but they are much 
like the ordinary table mushrooms. They have, however, 
one or two strong marks : Their stalk always grows out of 
a ^^ poison cup" which shows either as a cup or as a lulb; 
they have white or yellow gills, a ring around the stalk, and 
white spores. 

First of these is the 

Deathcup, Destroying Angel, Sure-Death or Deadly Ama- 
nita {Amanita phalloidcs), one and one half to five inches 
across the cup; three to seven inches high; pure white, 
green, yellowish, olive, or grayish brown; smooth, but 
sticky when moist; gills below; spores white; on the stem is 
an annulus or ring just white the cap, and the long stalk 
arises out of a hollow bulb or cup; usually it is solitary. 

A number of forms have been described as separate, but 
which are considered by Professor Mcllvaine as mere vari- 
eties of the phalloides — namely, the Virulent Amanita 
(virosa), shining white with a cap at first conical and acute; 
Spring Amanita (verna), like virosa, but showing a more 
persistent and closely sheathing remains of the wrapper at 
the base of the stem; Big-veiled Amanita (magnivelaris) , 
like verna, but has a large persistent armulus, and the bulb 



Mushrooms, Fungi, or Toadstools 311 

of the stem is elongated tapering downward; the Napkin 
Amanitas (nappa), volva circularly split; but all will be 
known by the four characters, poison-cup, ring, white or 
yello^vish gills, and the form shown in the diagram — and 
all are deadly poison. 




Amanita phalloides. 

This wan demon of the woods is probably the deadliest 
of all vegetable growths. To this pale villain or its kin is 
traced the responsibility for all deaths on record from toad- 
stool poisoning. There have been cases of recovery when a 
strong man got but a Httle of the poison, but any one mak- 
ing a meal of this fungus, when beyond reach of medical aid, 
has but a poor chance of escape. Its poison is a subtle 
alkaloid akin to rattlesnake venom, it rarely begins to show 



312 



The Book of Woodcraft 



its effects, until too late for treatment, the victim is beyond 
human help, and slowly succumbs. For centuries its 
nature has been a mystery; it has defied all remedies, only 
lately have we begun to win a little in the fight with this 
insidious assassin. 
There are thousands of tons of delicious food spread in our 





± ^M 




Fly amanita. 

woods and pastures every year, and allowed to go to waste 
because of the well-founded terror of the Deathcup. Every 
one should make a point of learning its looks and smash- 
ing all he can find, together with the half-formed young 
ones about it. We may not succeed in exterminating 
the pale fiend, but we can at least put that individual be- 
yond doing mischief or giving forth seeds. 

Hated Amanita (A. spreta). (Poisonous.) Four to six 
inches high, three to five inches across the cap, with a bump 
in the middle, whitish or pale or rich brown, gills white, a 



Mushrooms, Fungi, or Toadstools 313 

large loose yellowish poison cup; the stem tapers above the 
ring and at the base and is tinged reddish brown in the 
middle. 

Fly Amanita (^4. muscaria). (Poisonous.) About the 
same size; mostly yellow but ranging from orange red to 
almost white usually with raised white spot sor scales on the 
top; gills white — or tinged yellow, spores white; flesh, white. 

Frost's Amanita {A. frostiana). (Poisonous.) This is 
another gorgeous demon, small but brilliant and deadly. 
It is two to three inches high, with the cap one to two inches 
broad. The cap is brilliant scarlet, orange or yellow and 
warty, fluted on the margin. The gills are white or tinged 
yellow, the spores white; the stem white or yellow and the 
bulb margined above with a smooth collar or ring. A 
woodland specimen, no doubt responsible, McUvaine thinks, 
for the bad reputation of the scarlet Russula which is harm- 
less but resembles this. 

Tall Deathcup {A. excelsa). (Poisonous.) This tall 
and lonely pirate of the beech woods is about four to six 
inches in stature as it stands in its cup, and four to five 
inches across the top which is brownish gray, fleshy and 
sticky, often wrinkled and covered with tiny warts, edge of 
cap fluted; gills white; stem covered with scales on its lower 
parts at least. 

There are about twenty more of the Amanitas, var3ang in 
size and color, but most have the general style of tall flat 
mushrooms, and the label marks of poison viz: White or 
yellow gills, a poison cup, and white spores. They are not 
known to be poisonous. Some of them are good eating. 
One of them, the 

King Cap or Royal Mushroom. (A. Caesarea), is said to 
be the finest of all mushrooms. This magnificent and fa- 
mous toadstool is three to eight inches across the cap which 
is smooth and of a gorgeous red orange or yellow color; gills 



314 The Book of Woodcraft 

yellow, though the spores are white; stem yellow; the cap is 
very flat when fully expanded and always is finely grooved 
or fluted on the upper edge. This is not only eatable but 
famous, yet it is so much Hke certain poisonous forms that 
it is better let alone. Indeed it is best for the beginner to 
accept the emphatic warning given by Mcllvaine and 
Macadam, in their standard work " looo American Fungi" 
(p. XVII): 

"Any toadstool with white or lemon- yellow gills, casting 
white spores when laid — gills downward — upon a sheet 
of paper, having remnants of a fugitive skin in the shape 
of scabs or warts upon the upper surface of its cap, with a 
veil or ring, or remnants or stains of one, having at the base 
of its stem — in the ground — a loose, skinlike sheath sur- 
rounding it, or remnants of one," should he considered 
deadly poison till the contrary is proved by good authority. 
This may make you reject some wholesome kinds, but 
will surely keep you from danger. 

If by ill chance any one has eaten a poisonous Amanita, 
the effects do not begin to show till sixteen or eighteen 
hours afterward — that is, long after the poison has passed 
through the stomach and begun its deadly work on the 
nerve centres. 

Symptoms. Vomiting and purging, "the discharge from 
the bowels being watery with small flakes suspended, and 
sometimes containing blood," cramps in the extremities. 
The pulse is very slow and strong at first, but later weak 
and rapid, sometimes sweat and saliva pour out. Dizziness, 
faintness, and blindness, the skin clammy, cold and bluish 
or livid; temperature low with dreadful tetanic convul- 
sions, and finally stupor. (Mcllvaine and Macadam 
p. 627.) 

Remedy: "Take an emetic at once, and send for a phy- 
sician with instructions to bring hypodermic syringe and 



Mushrooms, Fungi, or Toadstools 315 

atropine sulphate. The dose is y-g-g- of a grain, and doses 
should be continued heroically until ^V of a grain is ad- 
ministered, or until, in the physician's opinion, a proper 
quantity has been injected. Where the victim is critically 
ill the -TTjj of a grain may be administered." (Mcllvainc 
and Macadam XVII.) 




Dfceivinff 
Clitofjbt 




3 0ct.(i(( . 



Unv/holesome. 



UNWHOLESOME BUT NOT DEADLY TOADSTOOLS 



There is another group that are emetic or purgative or 
nauseating, but not deadly. These it is well to know. 

Morgan's Lepiota {Lepiota morgani), six to eight inches 
high and five to nine or even twelve inches across the cap: 



3i6 The Book of Woodcraft 

Cup, white dotted over with fragments of a brownish or 
yellowish skin; gills, white at first, then green; spores, green; 
flesh, white, but changing to a reddish then yellowish when 
cut or bruised. This immense toadstool is found in mead- 
ows all summer long, usually in rings of many individuals; 
it is poisonous to some and not to others, but is never deadly 
so far as known. 

Sulphur Tricholoma {Tricholoma suphureum), two to 
four inches high: cap one to four inches apart, dingy or red- 
dish sulphur yellow above; flesh, thick and yellow; spores, 
white; stem, yellow inside and out; has a bad smell and a 
worse taste; is considered noxious if not actively poisonous. 
It is the only inedible Tricholoma known. 

Deceiving Clitocybe {Clitocybe illudens). This grows 
in clusters on rotten stumps or trees from August to Octo- 
ber. It is everywhere of a deep yellow or orange, often it is 
phosphorescent. Each plant is four to six inches across the 
cap and five to eight inches high. It is usually nauseating 
and emetic. 

Russula {Russula emetica). This is known at once by its 
exquisite rosy red cap, and its white gills, flesh and stalk. 
Sometimes the last is tinged rosy. It is a short stemmed 
mushroom two to four inches high; its cap pinkish when 
young, dark red or rosy red when older, fading to straw 
color in age; its gills and spores, white. Its peppery taste 
when raw is a fairly safe identification. In most books it is 
classed as "slightly poisonous," but Mcllvaine maintains 
that it is perfectly wholesome. I know that I never yet 
saw one that was not more or less gnawed by the discrimi- 
nating httle wood folk that know a good thing when they 
smell it. 

Woolly or Burning Marasmius {Marasmius urens), two 
to three inches high; cap two to three inches wide, pale yel- 
lowish, becoming paler; spores, white; gills, brown, paler 



Mushrooms^ Fungi or Toadstools 3^7 

at first; stem, woolly pungent. Poisonous to some persons 
but never deadly. 

Puckery Panus {Panus stipticus). Cap one half to 
one inch across, cinnamon color; gills, cinnamon; spores, 
white; stem, under one inch long, paler than the gills; 
grows on stumps and in bunches: noted for its extreme 
acridity; said to be a purgative poison. 

Sticky Volva {Volvaria gloiocephelus) . Cap about three 
inches across; with a grayish bump in the middle, dark 
opaque brown and sticky and lined at the edge; stem, six or 
more inches high and one half an inch thick, brownish, a 
few fibres on outside; gills, reddish; spores, pink; volva or 
poison cup, downy, splitting into several unequal lobes. 
Said to be poisonous. 

The Entolomas or the Fringed Entolomas. There are 
several of this genus that are poisonous or at least suspici- 
ous. They are of any size up to six or seven inches high 
and four or six inches broad, with pink spores and gills 
and sinuate gills. 

About twenty species are described and though some are 
edible they are better let alone, unlike most of the unwhole- 
some kinds their odor is agreeable. 

Pie-Shaped Hebeloma. (Hebelomacrustoliniforme). Cap, 
pale tan, yellow, or brick color, a bump in middle; 
gills, whitish, then clay color, variable in size; spores, yel- 
low. Smells strongly and unpleasantly of radish. 

This completes the list of gilled mushrooms given as 
unwholesome in Mcllvaine and Macadam. 

White Clavaria {Clavaria dichotoma) . Of all the coral 
mushrooms this is the only one known to be poisonous. It 
is not deadly but very unwholesome. It grows on the 
ground under beeches and is fortunately very rare. It is 
known by its white color and its branches dividing regu- 
larly by pairs. 



3i8 



The Book of Woodcraft 

WHOLESOME TOADSTOOLS 



With all these warnings and cautions about the poison- 
ous kinds before us, we shall now be able to approach in a 
proper spirit, the subject of Toadstool eating, and consider 




Oyster Mushrooms. 

the second of our groups. These are the good safe Toad- 
stools or Mushrooms — for it is the same tiling. 

The Common Mushroom (Agaricus campestris). Known 
at once by its general shape and smell, its pink or brown 
gills, white flesh, brown spores and solid stem. It grows 
in the open, never in the v/oods. 

Oyster Mushroom (Pleurotus ostreatus). Many of us 



Mushrooms, Fungi, or Toadstools 319 



have oyster beds in our woods without knowing it, a^id the 
oyster mushroom is a good example of valuable food going 
to waste. It is found growing in clusters on old dead wood, 
logs or standing trunks. Its cap is smooth, moist and white 
or tinged with ash or brown. The gills and spores are 
white. The flesh is white and tough. It measures two or 
six inches across. Sometimes it has no stem. It is a 
favorite for the table. It needs careful cleaning and long 
cooking. There is no poisonous species at all like it. 

Also, belonging to the Gilled or true mushroom family, are 
the Ink-caps of the Genus CopHnus. They grow on dung 
piles and rich ground. They spring up over night and per- 
ish in a day. In the last stage the gills turn into a black 
fluid, yes, into ink. At one time this was used for ink, a 
quantity of the black stuff being boiled and strained for the 
purpose. It is still a good scout dye for roots, quills, etc. 
The spores of Coprinus are black. It is strange that such 

poisonous looking things 
should be good food. 
Yet all the authorities 
agree that the Ink-caps 
are safe, delicious, easily 
identified and easily 
cooked. There is no poi- 
sonous mushroom with 
black spores at present 
known in North Amer- 
ica. 

Inky Coprinus {Co- 
prinus atrameniarius). 
This is the species illus- 
trated. The example 
was from the woods; 
Inky coprinus. often it is much more 




320 



The Book of Woodcraft 



tall and graceful. The cap is one to three inches in diam- 
eter, grayish or grayish brown, sometimes tinged lead color. 

Stew or bake from twenty to thirty minutes after thor- 
ough washing, is the recognized mode of cooking it. 

Beefsteak Mushroom {Fistulina hepatica). This juicy 
red mushroom grows chiefly on the chestnut stumps. 
In color it varies from strawberry red to liver brown, not 
unlike raw meat, paler below. When wounded it bleeds. 




Section, 
Beefsteak mushrooms. 

Note that it has tubes, not gills, below. "When properly 
prepared it is equal to any kind of meat. It is one of our 
best mushrooms." (M. E. Hard.) Sometimes sliced 
and served raw as a salad. 

All the Clavarias or Coral Mushrooms are good except 
Clavaria dichotoma which is white, and has its branches 
divided in pairs at each fork. It grows on the ground under 
beeches and is slightly poisonous and very rare. 

The edible ones are of the types illustrated. They are 
yellow, buff or dingy brown; two to four inches high. 



Mushrooms, Fungi, or Toadstools 321 




Moose horn 
clavaria. 



Red tipped 
clavaria. 



Golden coral 
mushroom. 



To cook Clavarias. Wash thoroughly, but do not peel. 
Fry or stew without salt, on a slow fire for half an hour, 
then add salt and other seasoning. 

Morels. According to M. E. Hard the morels are easily 
known by their deeply pitted naked heads. All are yellow- 
ish brown when young; the stems are stout, hollow and 
whitish. Mcllvaine & Macadam in discussing dangerous 
mushrooms, say: ''Not one of the morels is even sus- 
picious," except Gyromitra esculenta; avoid it. 

To cook morels: Thoroughly wash to remove all grit 
from the pits and crannies, slice and stew for an hour. 




CScoliTnli. 




J)e(icioiys Morel 
Morels 




322 



The Book of Woodcraft 







tttnh Out 
TVxr 



Puffballs. 



Puffballs (ly- 
coperdaceae). 
The next im- 
portant and 
safe group are 
the Puffballs be- 
fore they begin to 
puff. All our 
puffballs when 
young and solid 
white inside are 
good, wholesome 
food. Some of 
them, like the 
Brain Puffhall or the Giant Puffball, are occasionally a foot 
in diameter, and yield flesh enough to feed a dozen persons. 
They are well known to all who Uve in the country, their 
smooth, rounded exterior without special features, except 
the roots, and their solid white interior are easily remem- 
bered. But one must take great care in gathering the 
very small ones as the poisonous toadstools in the button 
stage resemble small puffballs externally. However, a sec- 
tion shows the cap, stem, etc., of the former, whereas puff- 
balls are solid without any obvious inner structure. 
The principal kinds are these: 

Pear Puff ball {Lycoperdon pyriforme). Usually 
found in masses on the ground or on old timber. It is 
pinkish brown, and rarely over one inch in diameter. 

Brain Puff ball {Calvatia craniiformis) . On the ground 
in woods. Pale grayish often with a reddish tinge, some- 
times wrinkled on top, sometimes smooth. Commonly six 
to eight inches high. 

Giant Puffball {Calvatia gigantea). Eight to twenty 
inches in diameter. McDvaine found one weighing nine 



Mushrooms, Fungi, or Toadstools 323 

pounds and heard of one weighing forty. In color it is 
white becoming grayish, yellowish or brown. In shape 
nearly round with a strong root. It is found in grassy 
places. Mcllvaine says that we can cut slices from a 
growing one, day after day, and, if we do not disturb the 
root, it keeps on neither dying nor ripening for many 
days. 

Cuplike Puffball {Calvatia cyathiformis) . Three to six 
inches in diameter, dull pinkish or ashy brown, often 
covered with a network of white cracks. Common on 
open grassy places. 




Bra/n PuffU^l 



Puffballs. 



To cook Puffballs: Wash clean, peel (other kinds are 
not peeled), cut out any discolored parts, sHce and fry in 
lard or butter with seasoning. 



UNCERTAIN KINDS 



Now for the vast number of uncertain toadstools. 
Remembering always that any harmless-looking species, 
like a long-legged anaemic mushroom or like a pretty white 
parasol, is probably deadly Amanita or Sure-death, and 
that an odd poisonous-looking freak like a coral, a poker, a 



324 The Book of Woodcraft 

bugle, a bird's nest, a spring bonnet or an Indian club, is 
likely to be wholesome, we may follow the suggestions of 
the authors already cited (p. xxxii), as follows: 

"There is but one way to determine the edibility of a 
species. If it looks and smells inviting, and its species can- 
not be determined, taste a very small piece. Do not swal- 
low it. Note the effect on the tongue and mouth. But 
many species, delicious when cooked, are not inviting raw. 
Cook a small piece; do not season it. Taste again; if 
agreeable eat it (unless it is an Amanita). After several 
hours, no unpleasant effect arising, cook a larger piece, 
and increase the quantity until fully satisfied as to its 
qualities. Never vary from this system, no matter how 
much tempted. No possible danger can arise from adher- 
ing firmly to it." 

Safety lies in the strict observance of two rules: 

"Never eat a toadstool found in the woods or shady 
places, believing it to be the common mushroom: Never 
eat a white — or yellow-gilled toadstool in the same be- 
lief. The common mushroom does not grow in the woods, 
and its gills are at first pink, then purplish brown, or 
black." 

Also there are many mushrooms of the Genus Boletus 
that are like ordinary mushrooms of various pale and 
bright colors, but instead of gills they have tubes under- 
neath. Some are eatable, some are dangerous. Avoid all 
that change color as being wounded or that have red- 
mouthed tubes or that taste peppery or acrid. 

"There is no general rule by which one may know an 
edible species from a poisonous species. One must learn 
to know each kind by its appearance, and the edibility of 
each kind by experiment," says Nina L. Marshall in the 
"Mushroom Book" (page 151), and gives the following: 



Mushrooms, Fungi, or Toadstools 3^5 

CAUTIONS FOR THE INEXPERIENCED 

Never use specimens which are decomposed in the slight- 
est degree. 

Never use those which are at all burrowed by insects. 

Never collect for food mushrooms in the button stage, 
as it is diflScult for a novice to distinguish the buttons of 
poisonous species from buttons of harmless species. 

Never use fungi with swollen bases surrounded by sac- 
like or scaly envelopes. 

Never use fungi with milky juice or any juice unless it is 
the reddish. 

Never use fungi with caps thin in proportion to the width 
of the gills when the gills are nearly aU of equal length, 
especially if the caps are bright colored. 

Never use for food tube-bearing fungi in which the flesh 
changes color when cut or broken, nor those with the tubes 
reddish. Be very cautious with all fleshy tube-bearing fungi. 

Never use for food fungi with web-like ring around the 
upper part of the stem. 

MUSHROOM GROWING 

Mushroom growing is a good way to make some money, 
provided one has a cellar or roothouse at one's disposal. 
To learn how, send to the United States Department of 
Agriculture, for Farmers' Bulletin, No. 204, "The Culti- 
vation of Mushrooms." 

BOOKS RECOMMENDED 

The following are standard and beautifully illustrated 
works on mushrooms and toadstools; they have been freely 
used for guidance and illustrations in the preparation of the 
above : 



326 The Book of Woodcraft 

"Edible and Poisonous Fungi of New York," by Char- 
les H. Peck. Published by New York State Museum, 
Albany, 1895. 

''Edible Fungi of New York." by Charles H. Peck. 
Published by New York State Museum, Albany, 1900. 

"The Mushroom Book." by Nina L. Marshall. Pub- 
lished 1902 at New York by Doubleday, Page & Co. $3.50. 

"One Thousand American Fungi," by Mcllvaine & 
Macadam. $5. PubHshed by the Bobbs-Merrill Company 
of Indianapolis, 1902; add 40 cents express. 

"Mushrooms," by G. F. Atkinson. Holt & Co. 

"The Mushroom," by M. E. Hard. The Ohio Library 
Company. Columbus, Ohio. 



XnL Forestry 



One Hundred of the Best Known Native Timber Trees 
of Northeastern America 

(That is, North America east of Long. ioo° west, and north of North Lat. 36°) 

All the common forest trees of the region defined are given herein. 
I have, however, omitted a few rare stragglers on the South and West 
and certain trees that are big in the Gulf States but mere shrubs with us. 

Remember when using this list as a key, that you will not often find 
a leaf exactly hke the one in the book; look rather for an illustration 
of the same general character as the one in your hand; place your leaf 
with the one most nearly hke it. Avoid the leaves of stump-sprouts 
and saplings; they are rarely typical; and especially get the fruit when 
possible; "the tree is known by its fruit.'^ In some cases nothing but 
the fruit can settle what your species is. 

In each (with five exceptions) the fruit is given of exact natural 
size. The exceptions are the Osage Orange or Bodarc, the Mountain 
Magnolia, Red-bud, Honey Locust, and Kentucky Coffee-tree, all of 
which are given in half size. 

In giving the weight of each kind of timber it is assumed to be dry 
and seasoned. All of our woods are lighter than water when seasoned; 
but many of them sink when green. The heaviest of our list is Yellow 
Oak, 54 lbs. per cubic foot; the lightest is Northern Cedar, 20 lbs. 
A cubic foot of water weighs 63 lbs., and for further interesting com- 
parison, a cubic foot of iron weighs 470 lbs., lead 718 lbs., gold 1228 
lbs., and platinum, 1323 lbs. 



327 



Forestry 329 

I. PINACE^ — CONIFERS OR PINE FAMILY 



V. 







White pinc 

PINUS ST ROB us 







^wijs /^/t L ^*t/^^ 



^KJ. A, 



White Pine, Weymouth Pine. (Pinus Sirobus) 

A noble evergreen tree, up to 175 feet high. The lumberman's prize. 
Its leaves are in bunches of 5, and are 3 to 5 inches long; cones 4 to 8 
inches long. Wood pale, soft, straight-grained, easily split. Warps 
and checks less than any other of our timbers. A cubic foot weighs 
24 lbs. 

Pine knots are hard masses of rosin, they practically never rot; long 
after the parent log is reduced to dust by the weather, the knots con- 




330 



The Book of Woodcraft 



tinue hard and sound. They burn freeJy with hot flame and much 
smoke and are the certain fuel for a fire in all weathers. In a less de- 
gree the same remarks apply to the larger roots. 




Red Pine, Canadian Pine, Norway Pine. (Pinus resinosa) 

Evergreen; somewhat less than the White Pine, with leaves 4 to 6 
inches long, in bunches of 2, cones i| to 2| inches long. Wood 
darker, harder, and heavier. A cubic foot weighs 30 lbs. 




Forestry 



331 




Long-Leaved Pine, Georgia Pine, Southeen Pine, Yellow Pine, 
Hard Pine. (Pinus palustris) 

A fine tree, up to 100 feet high; evergreen; found in great forests in 
the Southern States; it supplies much of our lumber now; and most of 
our turpentine, tar and rosin. Wood strong and hard, a cubic foot 
weighs 44 lbs. Its leaves are 10 to 16 inches long, and are in bunches 
of 3's; cones, 6 to 10 inches long. 




332 



The Book of Woodcraft 




Jack-Pine, Banksian Pine, Gray Pine, Labrador Pine, Hudson 
Bay Pine, Northern Scrub Pine. (Pinus Banksiana) 

Evergreen; 40 to 60 feet high; rarely 100. Leaves in bunches of 
2, and I to 2\ inches long; cone, i to 2 inches long. Dr. Robt. Bell 
of Ottawa says its seeds germinate better when the cone has been 
scorched. Wood, soft, weak. A cubic foot weighs 27 lbs. 

In 1Q07 on Great Slave River, N. latitude 60, we cut down a Jack-pine 




Forestry 



333 



12 feet high, it was one inch thick and had 23 rings at the bottom. 
Six feet up it had 1 2 rings and 20 whorls — in all it appeared to have 
43 whorls, of these 20 were on the lower part. This tree grew up in a 
dense thicket under great difficulties and was of very slow growth, the 
disagreement between rings and whorls was puzzling. 




Jersey Pine, Scrub Pine. {Pinus virginiana) 

Usually a small tree. Leaves i^ to 2 inches long and in bunches 
of 2's; cones i^ to 2\ inches long. Wood soft, weak, light orange; 
a cubic foot weighs 33 lbs. In sandy soil. 




334 



The Book of Woodcraft 



i^- / f-^ 

^1 I s.(b«, \: 



M I "J N l-"W W - "I ■ -J, 




Yellow Pine, Spruce Pine, Short-Leaved Pine, Bull Pine. {Pinus 

echinata) 

A forest tree, up to loo feet high. Leaves 3 to 5 inches long, and in 
bunches of 2's or 3's; cones about 2 inches long. Wood heavy, strong, 
orange; a cubic foot weighs 38 lbs. Valuable timber. 




Forestry 



']\'"''X!^X \'-^^ TABLE MO< 

s (o A K I :'' V^ WIS, (ft HICKCi, 



\ » '• y ^ 




MOUNTAlM PINE 
HICKORY pine: 
pih/uS PUNGENS 










Table Mountain Pine, Hickory Pine. (Pinus pungens) 

A small tree, rarely 60 feet; leaves 2^ inches long; mostly in bunches 
of 2's or sometimes 3's; cones 3^ to 5 inches long. In the mountains 
New Jersey to North Carolina. Wood, weak, soft, brittle, a cubic foot 
weighs 31 lbs. 




336 



The Book of Woodcraft 




Loblolly, Old Field Pine, Frankincense Pine. {Pinus Tceda) 

A fine forest tree, up to 150 feet. Leaves 6 to 10 inches long, and in 
bunches of 3's, rarely 2's; cones 3 to 5 inches long. Wood, weak, 
brittle, coarse, light brown, a cubic foot weighs 34 lbs. 



>^0^ 






m^^ 



^ 



Forestry 



337 




Pitch Pine, Torch Pine, Sap Pine, Candlewood Pine. {Pinus rigida) 

A small tree, rarely 75 feet high; evergreen; leaves 3 to 5 inches long 
and in clusters of 3, rarely 4; cones i| to 3 inches long. So charged 
with resin as to make a good torch. Remarkable for producing shoots 
from stumps. Wood, soft, brittle, coarse-grained, and light. A cubic 
foot weighs 32 lbs. " It is the only pine that can send forth shoots after 
iniury by fire." (Keeler). The pine of the "pine-barrens" of Long 
Island and New Jersey. 




338 



The Book of Woodcraft 




Tamarack, Larch or Hackmatack. (Larix laricina) 

A tall, straight, tree of the northern swamps yet often found flourish- 
ing on dry hillsides. One of the few conifers that shed all their leaves each 
fall. Leaves ^ to i inch long; cones ^ to | inch. Wood very resinous 
heavy and hard," a hard, soft wood" very durable as posts, in Manitoba 
I have seen tamarack fence posts unchanged after twenty years' wear. 
It is excellent for firewood, and makes good sticks for a rubbing stick 
fire. A cubic foot weighs 39 lbs. Found north nearly to the limit of 
trees; south to northern New Jersey and Minnesota. 





Forestry 



339 




White Spruce. {Picea canadensis) 



Evergreen; 60 to 70 or even 150 feet high. Leaves ^ to | inch 
long; cones ij to 2 inches long, are at the tips of the branches 
and deciduous; the twigs smooth. Wood white, light, soft, weak, 
straight-grained, not durable; a cubic foot weighs 25 lbs. Its roots 
afford the wattap or cordage for canoe-building and camp use 
generally. 

Spruce roots to be used as "wattap" for lacing a canoe, making birch- 
bark vessels or woven baskets, may be dug up at any time and kept till 
needed. 

An hour before using, soak in hot water till quite soft. They should 
be cleared of the bark and scrubbed smooth. Beautiful and strong 
baskets may be made of this material. It may be colored by soaking 
in dyes made as follows: 

Red by squeezing the juice out of berries, especially hlitum or 
squaw-berries. 

Dull red by soaking in strong tea made from the pink middle bark 
of hemlock. 

Black can be boiled out of smooth red sumac or out of butternut 
bark. 



340 



The Book of Woodcraft 



Yellow by boiling the inner bark of black oak or the root of gold 
seal or hydrastis. 

Orange by boiling the inner bark of alder, of sassafras or of the 
yellow oak. 

Scarlet by first dyeing yellow, then dipping in red. 

Nearly every tree bark, root bark and fruit has a peculiar dye of its 
own which may be brought out by boiling, and intensified with vinegar, 
^alt, alum, iron or uric salts. Experiments usually produce surprises. 




Forestry 



341 




Black Spruce. {Picea Mariana) 

Evergreen. Somewhat smaller than the preceding, rarely go feet 
high, with small rounded cones i to ij inches long; they are found 
near the trunk and do not fall ofif ; edges of scales more or less indent- 
ed, , In their September freshness the cones of Black Spruce are like 
small purple plums and those of White Spruce like small red bananas ; 
twigs, stout and downy; wood and roots similar to those of White 
Spruce. Leaves about ^ inch long with rounded tops. 







342 



The Book of Woodcraft 




Red Spruce. {Picea rubens) 

Evergreen. Much like the Black Spruce but with larger, longer 
cones about i| inch long and red when young, they are half way between 
tip and trunk on the twigs; edges of scales smooth and unbroken; twigs 
slender, leaves sharp pointed. Roots as in White Spruce, but wood 
redder and weigh 28 lbs. An eastern tree. In many ways half way 
between the White and Black Spruces. 




Forestry 



343 



^■^^ V , M AN I T f 




Hemlock. {Ts-uga canadensis) 

Evergreen; 60 to 70 feet high; occasionally 100; wood pale, soft, 
coarse, splintery, not durable. A cubic foot weighs 26 lbs. Bark full 
of tannin. Leaves ^ to f inch long; cones about the same. Its 
knots are so hard that they quickly turn the edge of an axe'or gap it as 
a stone might; these are probably the hardest vegetable growth in our 
woods. It is a tree of very slow growth — growing inches while the 
White Pine is putting forth feet. Its topmost twig usually points 
easterly. Its inner bark is a powerful astringent. A tea of the twigs 
and leaves is a famous woodman's sweater. 

*'As it bears pruning to almost any degree without suffering injury, 
it is well suited to form screeens for the protection of more tender trees 
and plants, or for concealing disagreeable objects. 

" But the most important use to which this bark is applied, and for 
which it is imported from Maine, is as a substitute for oak bark in the 
preparation of leather. It contains a great quantity of tannin, 
combined with a coloring matter which gives a red color to the 
leather apt to be communicated to articles kept long in contact with 
it." {Emerson.) 

There is another species in the South {T. Caroliniana) distinguishable 
by its much larger cones. 



344 



The Book of Woodcraft 




Twig and cones of Hemlock (life size) 



Forestry 




Balsam Tree or Canada Balsam. (Abies balsamea) 

Evergreen; famous for the blisters on its trunk, yielding Canada Bal- 
sam which makes a woodman's plaster for cuts or a waterproof cement; 
and for the exquisite odor of its boughs, which also supply the woodmen's 
ideal bed. Its flat leafage is distinctive. Wood pale, weak, soft, 
perishable. A cubic foot weighs 24 lbs. The name ' ' balsam ' ' was given 




346 



The Book of Woodcraft 



because its gum was long considered a sovereign remedy for wounds, 
inside and out. It is still used as a healing salve. In the southern 
Alleghanies is a kindred species (A. fraseri) distinguished by silvery 
underside of leaves, and smaller rounder cones. 

The Conifers illustrate better than others of our trees tne process and 
plan of growth. Thus a seedling pine has a tassel or two at the top of 
a slender shoot, next year it has a second shoot from the whorl that 
finished last year. So each year there is a shoot and a whorl correspond- 
ing exactly with its vigor that season, until the tree is so tall that the 
lower whorls die, and their knots are overlaid by fresh layers of timber. 
The timber grows smoothly over them, but they are there just the same, 
and any one carefully splitting open one of these old forest patriarchs, 
can count on the spinal column the years of its growth, and learn in a 
measure how it fared each season. 

In working this out I once cut down and examined a tall Balsam in 
the Bitterroot Mountains of Idaho. It was 84 feet high, had 52 annual 
rings; and at 32 inches from the ground, that is, clear of the root bulge, 
it was 15 inches in diameter. 

The most growth was on the N.E. side of the stump — g in. 
next " 



least 



There were 50 well-marked whorls and 20 not well marked; there 
were altogether 70 whorls, but 20 were secondary. The most vigorous 
growth on the tree trunk corresponded exactly with the thickest ring 
of wood on the stump. Thus annual ring No. 2)i on the stump counting 
from the centre coincided with an annual shoot of more than 2 feet 
length, which would be that of the wet season of 1883. Some of 
the annual shoots were but 6 inches long and had correspondingly 
thin rings. There was, of course, one less ring above each whorl or 
joint. 

Similar studies made on Jack Pine and Yellow Pine gave similar 
results. 

On hardwood trees especially those of alternate foliage one cannot 
so study them except when very young. i 





E. 








' — ^m. 




S. 








' — 8 in. 




N. 








' — 6^in. 




W. 








' — 6iin. 




N.W. 








' — 6 in. 



Forestry 



347 




Bald Cypress. (Taxodium distichum) 

A fine forest tree, up to 150 feet, with thin leaves somewhat like those 
of Hemlock, half an inch to an inch long; cones rounded about an inch 
through. Sheds its leaves each fall so is "bald" in winter, noted for 
the knees or upbent roots that it develops when growing in water. 
Timber soft, weak, but durable and valuable; a cubic foot weighs 
27 lbs. In low wet country. 




348 



The Book of Woodcraft 




ARBOR-ViTiE OR White Cedar. (Thuja occidentalis) 

Evergreen, 50 or 60 feet high. Wood soft, brittle, coarse grained, 
extremely durable as posts; fragrant and very light (the lightest on our 
list). Makes good sticks for rubbing stick fire. A cubic foot weighs 
only 20 lbs. The scale-like leaves are about 6 or 8 to the inch; the cone 
half an inch long or less. There is a kindred species {Chamaecyparis 
thyoides) of more southern distribution. It has much smaller cones 
and leaves. 

The Northern or White Cedar is noted for the dense thickets it forms 
in the hollows and hillsides of the eastern Canadian region. These 
banks, like evergreen hedges, are so close that they greatly modify the 
winter climate within their bounds — outside there may be a raging 
blizzard that no creature can face, while within all is dead calm and the 
frost less intense. The Cedar feeds its proteges too, for its evergreen 
boughs and abundant nuts are nutrient food despite their rosin smell 
and taste. Never do the deer and hares winter better than in cedar 
cover, and if there is great thicket in their region, they surely gather 
there as sparrows at a barn, or as rats around a brewery. 



Forestry 



349 




Enlarged leaves 
Twigs and cones of Northern Arbor-vitae 




3 so 



The Book of Woodcraft 




Red Cedar or Juniper. {Juniperus Virginiana) 

Evergreen. Any height up to loo feet. Wood, heart a beautiful 
bright red; sap wood nearly white; soft, weak, but extremely durable as 
posts, etc. Makes good sticks for rubbing stick fire. The tiny scale- 
like leaves are 3 to 6 to the inch; the berry-like cones are light blue and 
a quarter of an inch in diameter. 

The berries of the European species are used for flavoring gin, which 
word is an abbreviation of Juniper. 

"The medicinal properties of both are the same (Savin, of Europe) 
a decoction of the leaves having a stimulating effect, when used internall> 
in cases of rheumatism and serving to continue the discharge from 
blisters, when used in the composition of cerate for that purpose." 
{Emerson.) 

A cubic foot weighs 31 lbs. 



Forestry 



351 




Red Cedar showing fruit and two styles of twigs (life size) 
on the same tree 



2. SALICACEiE— THE WILLOW FAMILY 



The Willows are a large and difficult group. Britton and Brown 
.enumerate 34 species in the limits of northeastern America, and 160 
on the globe, of which 80 are found in this continent. Of the 34, 9 
only attain the dignity of trees. These are Ward's Willow, Peach- 
leaved Willow, Shining Willow, Weeping Willow, Purple Willow, Mis- 
souri Willow and the three herein described. 

Of the shrubs, two only have a special interest in woodcraft, the Pussy- 
willow, because of its spring bloom, and the Fish-Net or Withy Willow. 

Since the fruits of the Willows are born of catkins and are exceed- 
ingly small and difficult of study, they are not figured. 



The Book of Woodcraft 




Black Willow. (Salix nigra) 

The common Willow of stream-banks, usually 20 to 40 feet high, 
sometimes 100. Bark nearly black. Its long, narrow, yellow-green 
shining leaves are sufi&ciently distinctive. A decoction of Willow bark 
and root is said to be the best known substitute for quinine. Noted 
for early leafing and late shedding; leaves 3 to 6 inches long. Wood 
pale, weak, soft, close-grained; a cubic foot weighs 28 lbs. 



^.> 





,' K, A N S . 



Crack Willow, Brittle Willow. {Salix fragilis) 

A tall slender tree, up to 80 feet high. Called "Crack" etc., because 
its branches are so much broken by the storms; too brittle for basket 
work, but a favorite for charcoal used in manufacture of gunpowder, etc. 
Its leaves, 4 to 7 inches long, are very distinctive. This is a European 
species but now thoroughly naturalized in the Northeastern States. 

As a rough general rule the shape of the perfect tree is closely fashioned 
on that of the perfect leaf, for obviously they are the same material 
impelled by similar laws of growth, but we have two notable exceptions 
in the Lombardy Poplar and the common Willow. To conform to the 
tule these two leaves should change places. 




The Book of Woodcraft 




Golden Willow, Golden Osier, Yellow Willow or White Willow 

{Salix alba) 

This is a tall tree, up to 90 feet high. Leaves 2 to 4^ inches long. 
It is the well known willow of dams; conspicuous in spring for the mass 
of golden rods it presents. It comes near being evergreen as it leafs so 
early and sheds so late, that it is bare of leaves for less than four 
months. Noted for its wonderful vitality and quickness of growth. 
Any living branch of it stuck in the ground soon becomes a tree. On 
the dam at Wyndygoul are large Willows, one of them 61 inches in cir- 
cumference a foot from the ground though they were mere switches when 
planted eight years ago. A native of Europe, now widely naturalized 
in the Northeastern States and southern Canada. 



Forestry 



355 




Pussy Willow or Glaucous Willow. (Salix discolor) 

Usually a shrub, occasionally a tree, up to 25 feet high. Noted for 
its soft round catkins an inch long and two thirds of an inch thick, that 
appear in early spring before the leaves. The name Pussy is given 
either on account of these Catkins (little cats) or from the French 
"Pousse" budded. 




The Book of Woodcraft 




Fish-Net Willow or Withy Willow, Bebb's Willow. (Salix 

Bebbiana) 

This is a low thick bush or rarely a tree 20 feet high. It abounds near 
water, which seems a natural fitness, for its inner bark supplies the best 
native material for fish lines and fish nets in the North. It is called 
Withy Willow because its tough, pliant stems are used by farmers for 
withies or coarse cordage, especially for binding fence rails and stakes; 
though soft and pliant when put on they soon turn to horny hardness 
and last for years. Arctic to British Columbia north to Mackenzie 
River south to Pennsylvania and Utah. 




Forestry 



•^^ ^ /yfei^iFi O' i ,' : ^f I QUAKING ASP, OUIVCR LCAF 

' ^yi/^^sijt- -j'^: : '■-"i'* ''"■,! ASPEN LSAF,ASPE/* POPLAPoaPOPPLL 






UiK 



Quaking Asp, Quiver Leaf, Aspen Poplar or Popple. {Populus 

tremuloides) 

A small forest tree, but occasionally loo feet high. Readily known by 
its smooth bark, of a light green or whitish color. The wood is pale, 
soft, close-grained, weak, perishable, and light. A cubic foot weighs 
25 lbs. Good only for paper pulp, but burns well, when seasoned. 
When green it is so heavy and soggy that it lasts for days as a fire check 
or back-log. Leaves I5 to 2 inches long. A tea of the bark is a good 
substitute for quinine, as tonic, cold cure, bowel cure and fever driver. 

*' Pieces of wood 2f inches square, were buried to the depth of one 
inch in the ground, and decayed in the following order: Lime, Ameri- 
can Birch, Alder and Aspen, in three years; Willow, Horse-Chestnut 
and Plane, in four years; Maple, Red Beech and Birch, in five years; 
Elm, Ash, Hornbeam and Lombardy Poplar in seven years; Robinia, 
Oak, Scotch Fir, Weymouth Pine, Silver Fir, were decayed to the depth 
of half an inch in seven years; while Larch, common Jumper, Virginia 
Juniper and Arbor-vitae, were uninjured at the end of that time." 
Balfour's Manual of Botany, 1855. P. 45. 



358 



The Book of Woodcraft 







Forestry 

V As 



jMain^itoba; 




Large-Toothed Aspen. (Populus grandidentata) 

A forest tree, occasionally 75 feet high. Bark darker and rougher 
than preceding; readily distinguished by saw-toothed leaves. Wood 
much the same, but weighs 29 lbs. Leaves 3 to 4 inches long. 




360 



The Book of Woodcraft 




Swamp, Downy ctr Black Poplar. {Populus heterophylla) 

A good-sized forest tree; up to 80 feet high. A tree of cottonwood 
style; the young foliage excessively downy. Wood soft, weak. A cubic 
foot weighs 26 lbs. Leaves 5 to 6 inches long. 





Balsam Poplar, Balm of Gilead, or Tacamahac. (Populus halsami- 

fera) 

Fifty or 60 feet ordinarily, but sometimes 100 feet high. Bark rough 
and furrowed. The great size of the buds and their thick shiny coat 
of fragrant gum are strong marks. Wood much as in the preceding, 
but weighs 23 lbs. Leaves 3 to 6 inches long. There is a narrow- 
leafed form called angustifolia. 




The Book of Woodcraft 




Cottonwood. (Populus deltoides) 

Small and rare in the northeast. Abundant and large in west; even 
150 feet high. Wood as in other poplars but weighs 24 lbs. Leaves 
3 to 5 inches long. These and most of the poplars have the leaf stalks 
flattened laterally so that the slightest puff of wind vibrates the leaf, 
this with its shiny surface clears it of dust and enables it to live in dry 
places where different leaves would be stifled. 




Forestry 



363 




White Poplar, Silver Poplar or Abele. (Populus alba) 

This is a species introduced from Europe. It is a tall forest tree; 
up to 120 feet. The dark glossy surface of the upper and the dense 
white velvet of the under side of leaves are strong features. Its wood 
is soft white and weighs 38 lbs. per cubic foot. Leaves 2§ to 4 inches 
long. Generally distributed in Northeastern States. 




j64 



The Book of Woodcraft 

LoMBARDY Poplar. (Popultis dilatata) 



Introduced from Europe. Its tall form is a familiar feature of the 
civilized landscape in Eastern America. 




Forestry 







3. JUGLANDACE.E OR WALNUT FAMILY 
Black Walnut. {Juglans nigra) 

A magnificent forest tree up to 150 feet high, usually much smaller 
in the east. Wood, a dark purplish brown or gray; hard, close-grained; 
strong; very desirable in weather or ground work, and heavy. A cubic 
foot weighs 38 lbs. Leaflets 13 to 23; and 3 to 5 inches long. Fruit 
nearly round, i\ to 3 inches in diameter. 




366 



The Book of Woodcraft 




Fnut of Black Walnut 



Both life size 



Fruit of Butternut 



Forestry 



1^1 



£ •MANiToe; 



WHITE. \A/ALNUT 
OIL NUT cv? BUTTERNUT 
k/UQLANS cinerea 







J^, , J)y 




White Walnut, Oil Nut or Butternut. {Juglans cinerea) 

Much smaller than the last, rarely loo feet high; with much smoother 
bark and larger, coarser, compound leaves, of fewer leaflets but the 
petioles or leaflet stalks and the new twigs are covered with sticky down. 

"The bark and the nut are also used to give a brown color to wool. 
The Shakers at Lebanon dye a rich purple with it. Bancroft says that 
the husks of the shells of the Butternut and Black Walnut, may be 
employed in dyeing a fawn color, even without mordants. By means 
of them, however, greater brightness and durability are given to the 
color. The bark of the trunk gives a black, and that of the root a fawn 
color, but less powerful. From the sap an inferior sugar has been 
obtained. The leaves, which abound in acrid matter, have been used in 
the form of powder as a substitute for Spanish Flies." (Emerson.) 

A decoction of the inner bark, preferably of the root, is a safe mild 
purge, a teaspoonf ul of it as dark as molasses is a dose. 

The wood is light-brown, soft, coarse, not strong but very enduring 
in weather and ground work; light; leaves 15 to 30 inches long; leaflets 
II to 19 in number and 3 to 5 inches long; fruit oblong 2 to 3 inches long. 




368 The Book of Woodcraft 

xey to the hickories of north america 
Shagbarks 

Bark hanging loose in broad plates; leaflets S to 7, broad; nut, ridged 

and sweet, (i) Common Shagbark. 
Bark hanging loose in long narrow strips; leaflets 7 to 9; twigs, orange; 

foliage, downy; nut, much larger, (2) Big Shagbark. 
Bark hanging loose in long narrow strips ; leaflets S to 7 ; much like 

No. I, but nuts not ridged, (3) Small fruited Shagbark. 

Ridged or Net Barks 

Leaflets 11 to 15, very broad; nut smooth and without angles 

(4) Pecan. 
Leaflets 7 to 9, very narrow, willow-like; nut smooth and without 

angles, (5) Bitternut. 
Leaflets 9 to 13, very narrow, willow-like, top one very thin; nut 

with angles, (6) Water Hickory. 
Leaflets 7 to 9, broad terminal bud 5 to | inches long; nut with 

angles, (7) Mockernut. 
Leaflets 3 to 7, very broad terminal bud ? to f inch long; nut will 

little or no angles, (8) Pignut. 



Forestry 




Pecan. {Hicoria Pecan) 

A tall slender forest tree in low moist soil along streams, up to 170 
feet in height: famous for its delicious nuts, they are smooth and thin 
shelled; fruit, oblong, cylindrical, i^ to 2^ inches long. Its leaves are 
smooth when mature: leaflets 11 to 15, and 4 to 7 inches long: Wood 
hard and brittle, a cubic foot weighs 45 lbs. 





370 



The Book of Woodcraft 




BiTTERNUT OR SwAMP HiCKORY. {Hicofia cordiformis) 

A tall slender forest tree of low woods, up to loo feet high; chiefi} 
in Mississippi valley. Known by its small willow-like leaves; (7 to 9 
leaflets); its close rough bark; its ridged fruit, and bitter kernel. Its 
leaves are 6 to 10 inches long, its leaflets 2 to 4 inches long. Wood, 
brownish, very hard, close-grained, tough, strong, and heavy; a cubic 
foot weighs 47 lbs. Excellent firewood. 




Forestry 



371 




Water Hickory. {Hicoria aquatica) 

A tall tree of southern swamps, up to 100 feet high; leaflets 9 to 13, 
3 to 5 inches long, lance shaped, or the terminal one oblong; much like 
the Bitternut, but fruit longer and leaflets more numerous. Wood, soft, 
a cubic foot weighs 46 lbs. Virginia to Illinois, south to Texas and 
Florida. 




The Book of Woodcraft 




Shagbark, Shellbark or White Hickory. {Hicoria ovata) 

A tall forest tree up to 120 feet high. Known at once by the great 
angular slabs of bark hanging partly detached from its main trunk, 
forced off by the growth of wood, but too tough to fall. Its leaves are 
8 to 14 inches long, with 5 to 7 broad leaflets. The wood is very light 
in color, close-grained, tough and elastic. It makes an excellent 
bow; is the best of fuel. A cubic foot weighs 52 lbs., so that it is the 




Forestry 



373 



heaviest of the woods in this list except Post Oak, which is the same 
weight, and Yellow Oak, which is 2 lbs. heavier. It is the favorite for 
fork-handles and articles requiring strength and spring, but is useless 
for weather or ground work. Its nuts are the choicest of their kind. 
It is a tree of many excellencies. 




,, U H '-.J I 



BIO SH£LLBARK 
Of* KING NUT 
HICOfHA l.AC/f>ffOSA 











The Big Shell-bark or King-Nut. (Hicoria laciniosa) 

Ranges from Central New York south and westerly. It is much like 
the Shagbark but known by its downy young foliage and orange twigs; 
its leaflets 7 to 9, rarely 5 and very large, fruit 2 to 3 inches long and 
oblong, while in Shagbark they are i\ to 2| inches long and rovmded. 
Wood 50 lbs. to cubic foot. In rich soil. 





374 



The Book of Woodcraft 




MocKERNUT, White Heart or Big-Bud Hickory. {Hicoria 

alba) 

A tall forest tree, up to loo feet. Wood much like that of Shagbark, 
but not quite so heavy (51 lbs.). Its bark is smooth and furrowed like 
that of the Pignut. Its leaves like those of the Shagbark, but it has 
7 to 9 leaflets, instead of 5 to 7; it has a large terminal bud | to | 
of an inch long, and the leaves have a resinous smell. Its nut in the 
husk is nearly 2 inches long; the nut shell is 4-ridged toward the point, has 
a very thick shell and small sweet kernel. 





Forestry 



375 




Pignut Hickory. (Hicoria glabra) 

A tall forest tree; loo and up to 120 feet high. Wood much as in the 
Mockernut; bark smooth and furrowed; not loose plates. Leaves 8 to 1 2 
inches long. Nut slightly or not at all angular, very thick shelled; the 
pear shape of fruit is a strong feature, i| to 2 inches long. 




The Book of Woodcraft 




Small-Fruited Hickory. {Hicoria microcarpa) 

A small forest tree up to 90 feet high; considered by some variety of 
the Pignut; leaves 4 to 7 inches long; it has a small nut free from 
angles; otherwise much like Pignut. 




Forestry 



rmrs 




GRAT B/RCH Ofi 

ASPEN t.EAV£:D BIRCH 

BBTULA POPOUFOLfA 




^\k4f( 






6\^_ 



A N S 






4. BETULACE^ — BIRCH FAMILY 

Gray Birch or Aspen-Leaved Birch. (Betula poptdifolia) 

A small tree found on dry and poor soil; rarely 50 feet high. Wood 
soft, close-grained, not strong, splits in drying, useless for weather or 
ground work. A cubic foot weighs 36 lbs. Leaves 2 to 3 inches long. 
It has a black triangular scar at each armpit. 




378 



The Book of Woodcraft 




White, Canoe or Paper Birch. (Betula papyri/era) 

A tall forest tree up to 80 feet high; the source of bark for canoes, etc. 
One of the most important trees in the northern forest. Besides canoes, 
wigwams, vessels and paper from its bark, it furnishes syrup from its 
sap and the inner bark is used as an emergency food. Every novice 
rediscovers for himself that the outer bark is highly inflammable as 
well as waterproof, and ideal for fire-lighting. Though so much like 
the Gray birch, it is larger, whiter, and without the ugly black scars at 
each limb. The timber is much the same, but this weighs 37 lbs. Its 
leaf and catkin distinguish it ; the former are 2 to 3 inches long. 




Forestry 379 

The woodman's fire in Two Little Savages was made thus: 

"First a curl of birch bark as dry as it can be, 
Next some sticks of soft wood dead but on the tree; 
Last of all, some pine knots to make the kittle foam, 
An' thar's a fire to make ye think yer sittin' right at home." 

This is the noblest of the Birches, the white queen of the woods — 
the source of food, drink, transport and lodging to those who dwell in the 
forest; the most bountiful provider of all the trees. 

Its sap yields a delicious syrup which has in it a healing balm for 
the lungs. 

Its innermost bark is dried in famine time and powdered to a flour 
that has some nourishing power. 

Its wood furnishes the rims for snowshoes, the frills and fuzzes of 
its outer bark are the best of fire kindlers, and the timber of the trunk 
has the rare property of burning whether green or dry. 

Its catkins and buds form a favorite food of the partridge which is 
the choicest of game. 

But the outer bark-skin, the famous birch bark, is its finest con- 
tribution to man's needs. 

The broad sheets of this vegetable rawhide ripped off when the weather 
is warm and especially when the sap is moving — are tough, light, strong, 
pliant, absolutely waterproof, almost imperishable in the weather ; free 
from insects, assailable only by fire. It roofs the settler's shack and the 
forest Indian wigwam, it is the "tin" of the woods and supplies pails, 
pots, pans, cups, spoons, boxes — 'Under its protecting power the matches 
are safe and dry, and split very thin, as is easily done, it is the writing 
paper of the woods, flat, light, smooth, waterproof, tinted and scented; 
no daughter of the King has ever a more exquisite sheet to sanctify 
the thoughts committed to its care. 

But the crowning glory of the Birch is this — it furnishes the in- 
dispensable substance for the bark canoe, whose making is the highest 
industrial exploit of the Indian life. It would be hard to imagine 
anything more beautifully made, of and for the life of the Northern 
woods, buildable, reparable, and usable from the Atlantic to the 
Pacific, in all the vast region of temperate America — the canoe whose 
father was the Red mind and whose mother was the birch, is one of the 
priceless gifts of America to the world. We may use man-made fabrics 
for the skin, we may substitute unlovely foreign substance for the ribs, 
or dangerous copper nails for the binding of spruce roots — but 
the original shape, the lines, the structural ribs, the lipper-turning 
prow, the roller-riding stern and the forward propulsion of the ever 
personal paddle, the buoyancy, the wonderful lightness for overland 
transport, the reparableness by woodland stuffs — these are the things 



38o 



The Book of Woodcraft 



first born of the birch canoe and for these it will be remembered and 
treasured until man's need of travel on the little waters has reached 
its final end. 




Red Birch or River Birch. (Betula nigra) 

A tall forest tree of wet banks; up to 90 feet high. Known by its 
red-brown scaly bark, of birch-bark style, and its red twigs. Its wood 
is light-colored, strong, close-grained, light. A cubic foot weighs 36 
lbs. Leaves i^ to 3 inches long. 




Forestry 



381 




Yellow Birch, Gray Birch. {Betida lutea) 

A forest tree, of 30 to 50 feet height. Bark obviously birch, but 
shaggy and gray or dull yellow. Wood as in the others, but reddish. 
A cubic foot weighs 41 lbs. Leaves 3 to 4 inches long. 




The Book of Woodcraft 




Black, Cherry, Sweet or Mahogany Birch. {Betula lento) 

The largest of the birches; a great tree, in Northern forests, up to 80 
feet high. The bark is little birchy, rather like that of cherry, very dark, 
and aromatic. Wood dark, hard, clear-grained, very strong; used much 
for imitating mahogany. A cubic foot weighs 47 lbs. Noted for its 
sweet, aromatic twigs which made into tea are a fine tonic. 

"A decoction of the bark with copperas, is used for coloring woolen 
a beautiful and permanent drab, bordering on wine color." (Emerson.) 

Leaves 2| to 6 inches long. An oil in the bark is very good for 
sprains and rheumatism. 




Forestry 



383 




Alder or Smooth Alder, Tag Alder. {Alnus serrulata) 

This is the bush so well known in thickets along the Northern streams. 
It is usually under 20 feet in height, but sometimes reaches 40. Its 
wood is soft, light brown and useless, a cubic foot weighs 29 lbs. Leaves 
3 to 5 inches long. Its inner bark yields a rich orange dye. A tea made 
of the leaves is a valuable tonic and skin wash for pimples. In wet 
places or on hillsides. 

Besides serrulata there are four alders in our limits, the Mountain 
Alder {A . alnobetula) with downy twigs, smooth leaves broad but pointed, 




384 



The Book of Woodcraft 



nut with wings; the Speckled Alder {A. incana) leaves downy beneath; 
the European Alder (A. glutinosa) with broad, rounded double-toothed 
leaves; (this often becomes a tall tree) and the Seaside Alder (^4. mari- 
tima) known by its long narrow leaves. 




Ironwood, Hard-Hack, Leverwood, Beetle-wood or Hop Horn- 
beam. (Ostyra Virginiand) 

A small tree; 20 to 30, rarely 50 feet high; named for its hardness and 
its hop-like fruit. Bark, furrowed. Wood, tough close-grained, un- 
splittable. One of the strongest, heaviest and hardest of timbers. 
A cubic foot weighs over 51 lbs. That is, it comes near to Shagbark 
Hickory in weight and perhaps goes beyond it in strength and hardness. 
Leaves 3 to 5 inches long. Fruit i| to 2f inches long. 




Forestry 



38S 




Blue Beech, Water Beech or American Hornbeam. (Carpinus 

caroliniana) 

A small tree, 10 to 25 feet, rarely 40 feet high; bark, smooth. Wood 
hard close-grained, very strong; much like Iron wood, but lighter. A 
cubic foot weighs 45 lbs. Leaves 3 to 4 inches long. 




386 



The Book of Woodcraft 




5. FAGACE^ — BEECH FAMILY 
White Oak. (Quercus alba) 



A grand forest tree; over 100 feet up to 150 feet high. The finest and 
most valuable of our oaks. The one perfect timber for shipbuilders, 
farmers and house furnishers. Its wood is pale, strong, tough, fine- 
grained, durable and heavy. A cubic foot weighs 46 lbs. I found that 
when green it weighed 68 lbs. to the cubic foot and of course sank in 
water like a stone. Called white from pale color of bark and wood. 
Leaves 5 to 9 inches long. Many of them hang all winter though dead 
so the White Oak contributes a little to the golden glow of the snowy 
woods, though not to the extent of the Black Oak. Its acorns ripen in 
one season. They are sweet and nutritious and eagerly sought after by 
every creature in the woods from bluejays, wild ducks, mice and deer 
to squirrels and schoolboys. 

There can be little doubt that at least three out of five nut trees were 
planted by squirrels, chiefly the gray squirrel. All through autumn before 
snow falls the industrial Bannertail Gray works to bury for future use 
the choicest nuts he finds on the ground; ignoring the coarse and bitter, 
he makes sure of the sweet and delicate. Those that are not so disposed 
of, are usually eaten by deer, bears and other wild things. The various 
oaks have long competed for the squirrels' attention to their product. 
The Bur Oak acorn attracted by its size. Chestnut Oak by its split- 
ability and the White Oak by the sweetness. For a time the White 



Forestry 



387 



Oak fared well, for it furnished indeed the most delectable of our nuts, 
but now it is in an evil case. Largely through the growing scarceness 
of the gray squirrel the White Oak, the most valuable of its group, is 
no longer planted throughout its range. Its edibility is now a menace 
to its life, for it lies exposed and all things eagerly devour it while the 
other acorns lie untouched and we are now threatened with the 
extermination of this our noblest oak, the one that chiefly gave value 
to our hardwood forests, partly at least I believe through the near- 
extinction of the gray squirrel, its unwitting protector. The connection 
between these two creatures is so intimate that their ranges coincide 
exactly throughout the length and breadth of the land. 





388 The Book of Woodcraft 




Post Oak, or Iron Oak. {Quercus stellata) 

A smaller tree, rarely loo feet high; of very hard wood, dmable; used 
for posts, etc. A cubic foot weighs 52 lbs. ; that is, the same as Shagbark 
Hickory. Leaves 5 to 8 inches long. Acorns ripen in one season. 





Forestry 



389 




OvERCup, Swamp or Post Oak. (Quercus lyrata) 

A large tree up to 100 feet high. Wood very strong and durable; 
a cubic foot weighs 52 lbs. Noted for the cup covering the acorn. 
Leaves 6 to 8 inches long. 




The Book of Woodcraft 




Bur Oak, Cork Bark or Mossy Cup. {Quercus macrocarpa) 

A large forest tree, up to i6o feet high; known by its enormous acorns 
and the corky ridges on the twigs. The cork of commerce is the bark of 
an oak found in Spain and it's not surprising to find a cork bark in our 
own land. The leaves though greatly varied are alike in having two deep 
bays one on each side near the middle dividing the leaf nearly to the 
midrib so that the tj^ie is as given below; they are 4 to 8 inches long. 
The acorns ripen in one season. The wood is like that of most oaks, 
and lasts well next the ground. A cubic foot weighs 46 lbs. 




Forestry 



391 





Leaf and acom of Bur Oak 
(acorn life size) 



392 



The Book of Woodcraft 




Rock Chestnut Oak. {Quercus prinus) 

A good sized tree; up to loo feet high. Wood as usual. A cubic 
foot weighs 47 lbs. Its acorns are immense, ij to i§ inches long, and 
ripen in one season. Leaves 5 to 10 inches long. 




Forestry 



393 







Scrub Chestnut Oak. (Quercus prinoides) 

A mere shrub, 2 to 15 feet high. Close akin to the preceding. 
Leaves 2I to 5 inches long. Found in dry sandy and poor soil. 





394 



The Book of Woodcraft 



TT'TT 




Yellow Oak, Chestnut Oak or Chinquapin Scrub Oak. 
(Quercus Muhlenbergii) 

A great forest tree; up to i6o feet high; wood as usual, but the heaviest 
of all, when dry; a cubic foot weighs S4 lbs; when green, it is heavier 
than water, and sinks at once. It is much like the true Chestnut Oak but 
its leaves are narrower, more sharply saw-edged and its acorns much 
smaller, about half the size. Its acorns ripen in one season. Leaves 
4 to 6 inches long. 




Forestry 



vyo 




SWAh*t> \i^HITEOAK 
QveRcas eicoLO/t 







X 












Swamp White Oak. (Quercus hicolor) 

A fine forest tree in swampy land; up to no feet high. Wood as in 
preceding species, but a cubic foot weighs only 48 lbs. It has the leaf 
of a White Oak, the bark of a Black. Its smaller branches have the 
bark rough and loose giving a shaggy appearance to the tree. Its 
acorns ripen in one season and as in all the annual fruiting oaks its wood 
is durable next the ground. 





396 



The Book of Woodcraft 







Red Oak. (Quercus rubra) 

A fine forest tree, 70 to 80, or even 140, feet high. Wood reddish- 
brown. Sapwood darker. Hard, strong, coarse-grained, heavy. A 
cubic foot weighs 41 lbs. It checks, warps and does not stand for weather 
or ground work. The acorn takes two seasons to ripen. Apparently 
all those oaks whose nuts take two seasons to ripen have wood that 
soon rots. The low flat shape of the cup is distinctive; in fact it has 
no cup, it has a saucer; leaves 4 to 8 inches long. 





Forestry 



397 






SCAPLCT 0M< 








Scarlet Oak. {Quercus coccinea) 

Seventy to 80 or even 160 feet high. Scarlet from its spring and 
autumn foliage color. The leaves are a little like those of the Black Oak, 
but are frond-like with three or four deep, nearly even, cuts on each side: 
The acorns of this can be easily matched among those of the Black Oak, 
but the kernel of the Scarlet is white, that of the Black is yellow; 
they take two seasons to ripen. Wood much as in Red Oak but weighs 
46 lbs. per cubic foot. Leaves 4 to 8 inches long. 





398 



The Book of Woodcraft 




Black Oak, Golden Oak or Quercitron. (Quercus velutina) 

Seventy to 80 or even 150 feet high. The outer bark is very rough, 
bumpy and blackish; inner bark yellow. This yields a yellow dye 
called quercitron. The leaf is of the Scarlet Oak style, but has uneven 
cuts and usually a large solid area in the outer half. The wood is hard, 
coarse-grained, checks, and does not stand for weather or ground work. 
A cubic foot weighs 44 lbs. The acorns take two seasons to ripen. 
Taking the White Oak acorn as a standard of white, that is a 
yellowish-white, the acorn of the present when cut open is a distinct 
golden yellow. As in all oaks the leaves vary greatly, look for the 




Forestry 



399 



type not the exact portrait among the illustrations; they are 4 to 6 
inches long. 

One of the wonderful things about this oak is the persistence of its 
leaves. Though dead and faded they cling in numbers to the tree all 
winter; their exquisite old gold is one of the artist's joys and the glory 
of the winter landscape. This with its bright yellow inner bark, its 
bright yellow nut and its yellow brown winter foliage amply entitle it 
to be called "golden oak." 



CTT^' 




Pin Oak or Swamp Oak. (Quercus palustris) 

Fifty to 70 or even 120 feet high, in swampy land. Wood hard, 
coarse-grained, very strong and tough; the Pin Oak is more happily 
named than most of its kin, first the numerous short straight branches 
in the lower trunk, make it seem stuck full of large pins, next, each point 
of its leaves has a pin on it, in each armpit of the midrib below is a tiny 
velvet pin cushion and finally and chiefly this exceptionally tough wood 





400 



The Book of Woodcraft 



was the best available for making the pins in frame barns. In Wyndy- 
goul Park I cut a Pin Oak that was no feet high and 32 inches across 
the stump and yet had but 76 rings of annual growth. Will not stand 
exposure next to ground. A cubic foot weighs 34 lbs. Its acorns take 
two seasons to ripen. Leaves 4 to 6 inches long. In moist woods and 
along swamp edges. 



■[ "'J\"""[\ ' I Ky\''i\ 

I sYcJAK \ BLACHJ/<^H OR BARREN 0/<K • \-.UV'v\ 





Black Jack or Barren Oak. {Quercus marilandica) 

A small tree seldom up to 60 feet high. An unimportant tree of barren 
wastes. Leaves 3 to 5 lobed downy below, bristle-tipped and 3 to 7 
inches long; acorns take two seasons to ripen. Wood hard and dark, 
not durable. A cubic foot weighs 46 lbs. 





Forestry 



401 




Spanish Oak. (Quercus triloba) 

A large tree up to 100 feet occasionally. Found on dry soil. Leaves 
bristle-tipped, 5 to 7 inches long, with 3 to 7 lobes. The acorns do not 
ripen till the second year so we may expect the wood to be undurable, 
A cubic foot of it weighs 43 lbs. 





402 



The Book of Woodcraft 




Bear or Scrub Oak. (Quercus ilicifolia) 

An insignificant tree rarely 25 feet high. Often forming dense 
thickets, on poor sandy or rocky soil. The leaves are bristle-tipped, 
2 to 5 inches long. The acorns ripen in the second season and are so 
bitter that nobody cares who gets them. The bears were least squeam- 
ish so were welcome to the crop hence one of the names. 




Forestry 



403 




Water Oak. (Quercus nigra) 

A middle-sized tree, rarely 80 feet high, found chiefly along streams 
and swamps. Leaves i§ to 3 inches long; i to 3 lobed at the end. 
Wood hard and strong, a cubic foot weighs 45 lbs. The acorns ripen 
in the second season so look out for its timber. This leaf has tufts of 
hair in the armpits of the veins beneath. 




404 



The Book of Woodcraft 




Beech. (Fagus grandifolia) 

In all North America there is but one species of beech. It is a noble 
forest tree, 70 to 80, and occasionally 120 feet high; readily distinguished 
by its unfurrowed ashy gray bark. Wood hard, strong, tough, close- 
grained, pale, heavy. Leaves 3 to 4 inches long. A cubic foot weighs 
43 lbs. It shares with Hickory and Sugar Maple the honor of being a 
perfect firewood. 




Forestry 



405 




Chestnut. {Castanea dentata) 

A noble tree, 60 to 80 or even 100 feet high. Whenever you see 
something kept under lock and key, bars and bolts, guarded and double 
guarded, you may be sure it is very precious, greatly coveted — the nut 
of this tree is hung high aloft, wrapped in a silk wrapper which is en- 
closed in a case of sole leather, which again is packed in a mass of shock- 
absorbing vermin-proof pulp, sealed up in a waterproof iron-wood saft 
and finally cased in a vegetable porcupine of spines, almost impregnable. 




4o6 



The Book of Woodcraft 



There is no other nut so protected; there is no nut in our woods to 
compare with it as food. Wood, brown, soft, easily worked, coarse, too 
easily split, very durable as posts or other exposed work, altogether a most 
valuable timber, the present plague that threatens to wipe it out is a 
fungus probably from abroad. There is no known remedy. A cubic 
foot of the wood weighs 28 lbs. Leaves 6 to S inches long. 




Chinquapin. (Castanea pumila) 

A small tree, rarely 45 feet high, with the general character of the 
common Chestnut. It is much smaller in all ways. Its leaves are 3 




Forestry 



407 



to 6 inches long; its burs less than half the size of dentata. Its wood 
is similar but darker and heavier, a cubic foot weighing 37 lbs. These 
two complete the list of chestnuts native to the Northeastern States. 




6. ULMACE^ — ELM FAMILY 

White Elm, Water or Swamp Elm. (Ulmus Americana) 

A tall splendid forest tree; commonly 100, occasionally 120 feet high. 
Wood reddish-brown; hard, strong, tough, very hard to split. This 
furnished the material of the hubs in 0. W. Holmes's "One Hoss Shay." 




4o8 



The Book of Woodcraft 



It is coarse, heavy; fairly good firewood, but sparks badly. A cubic 
foot weighs 41 lbs. Soon rots near the ground. Leaves 2 to 5 inches 
long. Flowers in early spring before leafing. Seeds ripe in May. 
Common in most parks. 







Slippery Elm, Moose or Red Elm. {JJlmus fulva) 

Smaller than White Elm, maximum height about 70 feet. Wood 
dark, reddish; hard, close, tough, strong; durable next the ground; 
heavy; a cubic foot weighs 43 lbs. Its leaves are larger and rougher 
than those of the former. Four to 8 inches long, and its buds are hairy, 
not smooth. The seeds ripen in early spring when the leaves are half 
grown ; they were a favorite spring food of the Passenger Pigeon. Chiefly 
noted for its mucilaginous buds, inner bark and seeds, which are eaten 
or in decoction used as a cough-remedy. This is a valuable specific 
in all sorts of membranous irritation: for the hard cough or bowel 
trouble, drink it; for sores apply it in poultice form. It can never do 
harm and always does some good. 

The inner bark of this Elm contains a great quantity of mucilage, 
and is a favorite popular prescription, in many parts of the country, 
for dysentery and affections of the chest. 

"It is much to be regretted that the Slippery Elm has become so rare. 
The inner bark is one of the best applications known for affections of 
the throat and lungs. Flour prepared from the bark by drying perfectly 
and grinding, and mixed with milk, like arrow-root, is a wholesome and 
nutritious food for infants and invalids." {Emerson.) 



Forestry 



409 





1. American Elm 

2. Slippery Elm 



3. Cork Elm 

4. Wahoo 



410 



The Book of Woodcraft 



ROCK^ CLIFF 




HlCKORYoH CORK ELM 
ULMUS THOMAS! 



^>N^ w IS fy I o ) I 1 



b 








I H > o_rt 



-•-— vA^^^^ ^ 




v\o' 



Rock, Cliff, Hickory or Cork Elm. {Ulmus Thomasi) 

A tall forest tree on dry or rocky uplands; occasionally loo feet high. 
Wood pale, reddish-brown; hard, close, strong, tough and heavy. A 
cubic foot weighs 45 lbs. It lasts a long time next the ground. It is 
regularly marked with corky ridges on the two-year-old branches, which 
give it a shaggy appearance. Its leaves are 2 to 5 inches long. "It 
possesses all the good qualities of the family, and none of the bad ones." 
{Keeler.) 




Forestry 



411 




Winged Elm or Wahoo. {Uhnus alata) 

A small tree, up to 50 feet high. Remarkable for the flat corky wings 
on most of the branches. The wood is hard, weak and brown. A 
cubic foot weighs 47 lbs. Its leaves are i to 3 inches long. 





412 



The Book of Woodcraft 




Hackberry, Sugarberry, Nettle Tree or False Elm. {Celtis 

occidentalis) 

A tall slender tree, 50 feet, rarely 100 feet high. Wood soft, pale, 
coarse, a cubic foot weighs 45 lbs. Leaves 2 to 6 inches long. Its 
style is somewhat elm-like, but it has small dark purple berries, each 
with a large stone like a cherry pit. The wood is "used for the shafts 
and axletrees of carriages, the naves of wheels, and for musical instru- 
ments. The root is used for dyeing yellow; the bark for tanning; and 
an oil is expressed from the stones of the fruit." {Emerson.) In dry soil. 




Forestry 



413 




7. MORACE^ — MULBERRY FAMILY 
Red Mulberry. (Morus rubra) 

A fine forest tree up to 65 feet high; wood, pale yellow, soft, weak 
but durable; a cubic foot weighs 37 lbs.; berries I5 inches long, dark 
purple red, delicious. Leaves 3 to 5 inches long. In rich soil. 




414 



The Book of Woodcraft 




Osage Orange, Bois d'arc, Bodarc or Bow-Wood. {Toxylon 

pomiferum) 

A small tree, rarely 60 feet high. Originally from the middle Missis- 
sippi Valley, now widely introduced as a hedge tree. Famous for sup- 
plying the best bows in America east of the Rockies. Wood is bright 
orange; very hard, elastic, enduring and heavy. Leaves 3 to 6 inches 
long. A cubic foot weighs 48 lbs. 




Orange, i of life size 



Forestry 



415 




8. MAGNOLIACE^ — MAGNOLIA FAMILY 



Tulip Tree, White- Wood, Canoe Wood or Yellow Poplar. {Lirio- 

dendron Tulipifera) 

One of the noblest forest trees, ordinarily 100 feet, and sometimes 150 
feet high. Noted for its splendid clean straight column; readily known 
by leaf, 3 to 6 inches long, and its tulip-like flower. Wood soft, straight- 
grained, brittle, yellow, and very light; much used where a broad sheet 
easily worked is needed but will not stand exposure to the weather; is 
poor fuel; a dry cubic foot weighs 26 lbs. 

Makes a good dugout canoe, hence Indian name, "canoe wood" 
{Keeler). The inner bark and root bark either as dry powder or as 
"tea" are powerful tonics and especially good for worms. 

Every tree like every man must decide for itself — will it live in the 
alluring forest and struggle to the top where alone is sunlight or give up 
the fight and content itself with the shade — or leave this delectable 
land of loam and water and be satisfied with the waste and barren plains 
that are not desirable. 

The Tulip is one of those that believe there is plenty of room at the 
top and its towering trunk is one of the noblest in the woods that shed 
their leaves. The Laurel and Swamp Magnolia are among the shadow 
dwellers; and the Scrub Oaks and the Red Sumacs are among those 
that have lost in the big fight and are content with that which others 
do not covet. 



4i6 



The Book of Woodcraft 




Forestry 



417 




Sweet Bay, Laurel Magnolia, White Bay, Swamp Laurel, Swamp 
Sassafras or Beaver Tree. (Magnolia virginiana) 

A small tree 15 to 70 feet high, nearly evergreen, noted for being a 
favorite with the Beaver. ''Its fleshy roots were eagerly eaten by the 
Beavers, who considered them such a dainty that they could be caught 
in traps baited with them. Michaux recites that the wood was used by 
the beavers in constructing their dams and houses in preference to any 
other." (Keeler.) 

The wood weighs 3 1 lbs. to the cubic foot. The heart wood is reddish- 
brown, the sap wood nearly white. The leaves are 3 to 6 inches long, 
dark shiny green above, faintly downy below. Fruit cone i§ to 2 
inches high. 





4i8 



The Book of Woodcraft 




Cucumber Tree or Mountain Magnolia. (Magnolia acuminata) 

A fair-sized forest tree 60 to 90 feet high. The wood weighs 29 lbs. 
to the cubic foot. The leaves are light green, faintly downy below, 
2 to 12 inches long. Fruit cone 3 to 4 inches high. 




i life size 



Forestry 



419 



•M^NtTdBA; I SP/CE BUSH^FEVER BUSH 




9. LAURACE^ — LAUREL FAMILY 

Spice Bush, Fever Bush, Wild Allspice, Banjamin Bush. {Benzoin 

odoriferum) 

A small bush rarely 20 feet high. In moist woods; berries red; 
leaves 2 to 5 inches long. A tea made of its twigs was a good old remedy 
for chills and fever. 





420 



The Book of Woodcraft 




Sassafras, Ague Tree. {Sassafras Sassafras) 

Usually a small tree of dry sandy soil, but reaching 125 feet high in 
favorable regions. Its wood is dull orange, soft, weak, coarse, brittle, 
and light. A cubic foot weighs 31 lbs. Very durable next the ground. 
Leaves 4 to 7 inches long. Noted for its aromatic odor. 




"In the Southwestern States the dried leayes are much used as an 
ingredient in soups, for which they are well adapted by the abundance 



Forestry 421 

of mucilage they contain. For this purpose the mature green leaves 
are dried and powdered, the stringy portions being separated, and are 
sifted and preserved for use. This preparation mixed with soups, 
give them a ropy consistence, and a peculiar flavor, much relished by 
those accustomed to it. To such soups are given the names gombo file 
and gombo zab. (P. 321.) 

"A decoction of the bark is said to communicate to wool a durable 
orange color." (P. 322) (Emerson). 

Tea made of the bark is also a fine warming stimulant and sweater. 

Its roots are used in the manufacture of root-beer. 



422 



The Book of Woodcraft 




lo. HAMAMELIDACE^ — WITCH-HAZEL FAMILY 

Witch-Hazel, Winter Bloom or Snapping Hazel Nut. {Hamamelis 

virginiana) 

A small tree lo to 15 teet high, usually with many leaning stems from 
one root. Noted for its blooming in the fall, flowers of golden threads, the 
nuts explode when ripe throwing the seeds a dozen feet. A snuff made 
of the dry leaves stops nosebleed at once, or indeed any bleeding when 





Forestry 423 

locally applied. A decoction or tea of the bark gives relief to inflamma- 
tion of the eye or skin. 

Witch hazel blossoms in the fall 
To cure the chills and fever all. 

(Two Little Savages.) 

A forked twig of this furnished the favorite divining rod whence the 
name. Leaves 4 to 6 inches long. 



The Book of Woodcraft 




II. ALTINGIACEyE — SWEET GUM FAMILY 

Sweet Gum, Star-Leaved or Red Gum, Bilsted, Alligator Tree 

OR Liquidambar. {Liquidamhar Styraciflua) 

A tall tree up to 150 feet high of low, moist woods, remarkable for 
the corky ridges on its bark, and the unsplittable nature of its weak, 
warping, perishable timber. Heart-wood reddish-brown, sap white; 
heavy, weighing 37 lbs. to cubic foot. Leaves 3 to 5 inches long. 




Forestry 



425 




12. PLATANACEiE — PLANE TREE FAMILY 

Sycamore, Plane Tree, Buttonball or Buttonwood. (Platanus 

occidentalis) 

One of the largest of our trees; up to 140 feet high; commonly hollow. 
Wood, light brownish, weak; hard to split; heavy for its strength. A 
cubic foot weighs 35 lbs. Little use for weather work. Famous for 




426 The Book of Woodcraft 

shedding its bark as well as its leaves. Leaves 4 to 9 inches long. Canada 
to the Gulf. 

When a tree is a mere sapling, the bark is thin and soft; it stretches 
each year with the annual growth of the trunk. But it becomes thicker 
and harder with age and then it cracks with the expansion of the trunk. 
This process continues each year till the segments of the first coat are 
widely separated by gaping fissures. This is well seen in the Elm, and 
each of the bark ridges shows the annual layers, from the widely sep- 
arated outer one to the united inmost one. 

But some trees, notably the Sycamore, burst their bark, yet do 
not retain the fragments. These are dropped each year, hence the 
smooth green surface of the trunk, hence also its success as a tree of 
grimy cities, for it has an annual cleaning of the skin and thus throws 
off mischievous accumulations that would kill a tree that retained its 
bark indefinitely. 

The Shagbark Hickory will be remembered as a halfway shedder. 



Forestry 



427 




13. AMYGDALACE^ — PLUM FAMILY 

Choke Cherry. (Padus virginiana) 

A bush 2 to 19 feet high in the North. A tall tree in the Mississippi 
Valley. Wood, pale, hard, close-grained, and heavy. A cubic foot 
weighs 43 lbs. Leaves 2 to 4 inches long, the marginal teeth divaricate 
or outcurved. Noted for its astringent fruit. Leaf broader, fruit 
smaller than in Black Cherry. 




The Book of Woodcraft 




Black Cherry, Cabinet or Rum Cherry. {Padus serotina) 

A fine tree, even in Canada'; 60 to 70 or even 90 feet high. The 
source of many excellent remedies, chiefly pectoral. Tea of the bark 
(roots preferred) is a powerful tonic for lungs and bowels; also good as 




Forestry 



429 



a skin wash for sores. The leaves when half wilted are poisonous to 
cattle. The wood is hght-brown or red, strong, close-grained; much in 
demand for cabinet work; light. A cubic foot weighs 36 lbs. Leaves 
5 inches long, the marginal teeth incurved. 




430 



The Book of Woodcraft 




14. MALACE^ — APPLE FAMILY 

Scarlet Haw, Hawthorn, Thorn Apple or Apple Haw. (Cratcegus 

mollis) 

A small tree, 10 to 20, rarely 30 feet high. Wood hard and heavy. 
A cubic foot weighs 50 lbs. Leaves 2 to 4 inches long. Noted for its 
beautiful deep red fruit, f to i| inches long, round, with pink-yellow 
flesh, 5 or 6 stones, quite eatable. 




Forestry 



431 




15. C^SALPINACE^ — SENNA FAMILY 
Red-Bud or Judas Tree. (Cercis canadensis) 

Small tree of bottom lands, rarely 50 feet high; so called from its 
abundant spring crop of tiny rosy blossoms, coming before the leaves, 
the latter 2 to 6 inches broad. "Judas tree" because it blushed when 
Judas hanged himself on it. (Keeler.) Its wood is dark, coarse and 
heavy. 

A cubic foot weighs 40 lbs. 




Pod I lite size 



432 



The Book of Woodcraft 




Honey or Sweet Locust, Three-thorned Acacia. 
{Gleditsia triacanthos) 
A tall tree up to 140 feet high; very thorny. Wood dark, hard, strong, 
coarse, heavy. A cubic foot weighs 42 lbs. Leaves single or double 
pinnate; leaflets | to i| inches long. It is very durable as posts, etc. 
Pods 6 to 12 inches long. So called because of the sweet stuff in which 
its seeds are packed. Chiefly Mississippi Valley, but common in the East 
along roadsides. 




Pod is i life size 



Forestry 



433 




Kentucky Coffee Tree. {Gymnocladus dioica) 
A tall tree (up to loo feet), so called because its beans were once 
used as coffee. Wood is light-colored, coarse-grained strong, and 
heavy. A cubic foot weighs 43 lbs. Leaves large and bipinnate; leaf- 
lets, 7 to 15, and I to 3 inches long. It is remarkably durable next the 
ground, as posts, etc. 




Pods \ life size 



434 



The Book of Woodcraft 







1 6. FABACE^ — PEA FAMILY 
Black or Yellow Locust, Silver Chain. {Robinia Pseudacacia) 

A tall forest tree, up to 80 feet high: leaves 8 to 14 inches long; leaf- 
lets 9 to 19, I to 2 inches long; pods 2 to 4 inches long, 4 to 7 seeded. 
Wood greenish-brown, very strong and durable; much used for posts: 
weight 46 lbs. per cubic foot. 

"The leaves are used in some parts of Europe, either fresh or cured, as 
nourishment for horses; the seeds are found very nutritious to fowls. 




Forestry 



435 



The leaves may be made a substitute for indigo in dyeing blue, and the 
flowers are used by the Chinese for dyeing yellow." {Emerson.) 

Pennsylvania to Iowa and South to Georgia and common in the east 
along roadsides. 




177X11 



17. ANACARDIACE^ — SUMAC FAMILY 

Staghorn or Velvet Sumac, Vinegar Tree. {Rhus hirta) 

A small tree 10 to 40 feet high. Noted for its red velvety berries 
in solid bunches and its velvet clad stem whence its name. Leaflets 
II to 31 and 2 to 5 inches long; the whole leaf 16 to 24 inches long. 

"The berries are also used in dyeing their own color. Kalm says, 
that the branches boiled with the berries, afford a black, ink-like tinc- 
ture." {Emerson.) 

Nova Scotia to British Columbia, south to Florida and west to 
Arizona. 

Somewhat like it but qmte smooth is the Smooth or Scarlet Sumac. 
{R. glabra.) 

Its berries make a safe and pleasant drink for children and tea of 
almost any part of the tree is a powerful tonic. 



436 



The Book of Woodcraft 




Forestry 



437 




Dwarf, Black, Upland or Mountain Sumac. {Rhus copallina) 

A small tree like the Staghorn; of 
similar range. Known by the pecu- 
liar winged stems of the leaves. 
Leaves 6 to 12 inches long and leaf- 
lets 2 to 4 inches long ; number 9 to 
21. Dry soil. Maine to Minnesota 
and south to Florida and Texas. 





438 



The Book of Woodcraft 







Poison Sumac, Poison Elder. {Rhus Vernix) 

A small tree, 15 to 20 up to 25 feet high. Noted for being the most 
poisonous tree in the country. Its active principle is a fixed oil. This 
may be removed by washing with an alcoholic solution of sugar of lead ; 
it is a sure cure. When this remedy is not at hand, wash the parts with 
water as hot as one can stand, this is also a reliable remedy. The same 
remarks apply to Poison Ivy or Poison Oak. Leaves 6 to 15 inches 
long; leaflets 7 to 13 in numbers and 2 to 4 inches long. Timber is 
light and worthless. A cubic foot weighs 27 lbs. Damp woods. 





Forestry 



439 




Poison, Climbing or Three-leaved Ivy, Poison Oak, Climath. 

{Rhus radicans) 

Though a trailing vine on the ground, on fences or on trees and never 
itself a tree, the Poison or Three-fingered Ivy should appear here that 
all may know it. Its poisonous powers are much exaggerated, about 
three persons out of four are immune and the poison is easily cured as 





440 



The Book of Woodcraft 



described under Poison Sumac. Its leaflets always three, are i to 4 
inches long. Its berries are eagerly eaten by birds. 

"The juice of this plant is yellowish and milky, becoming black after 
a short exposure to the air. It has been used as marking ink and on 
lineu is indelible." {Emerson.) It grows everywhere in the open being 
found from Manitoba eastward and Texas northward. 




18. ACERACE^ — MAPLE FAMILY 

Striped Maple, Goosefoot Maple or Moosewood. {Acer penn- 

sylvanicum) 

A small tree up to 35 feet high, in tall woods, called "striped" because 
its small branches have white lines. It is much eaten by the moose. 
Wood, brown, soft, close-grained, light. Leaves, 5 to 6 inches long. 
A cubic foot weighs 33 lbs. 




Forestry 



441 




Mountain Maple. (Acer spicatum) 

A shrub or small tree, rarely 30 feet high. Wood soft, pale and light, 
a cubic foot weighs ^^ lbs. Leaves 4 to 5 inches along. 




442 



The Book of Woodcraft 




Sugar Maple, Rock Maple or Hard Maple. (Acer saccharum) 

A large, splendid forest tree, 80 to 120 feet high; red in autumn. 
Wood hard, strong, tough and heavy but not durable. A cubic foot 
weighs 43 lbs. It enjoys with Beech, Hickory, etc., the sad distinction 
of being a perfect firewood. Thanks to this it has been exterminated 
in some regions. 

Bird's-eye and curled Maple are freaks of the grain. Leaves 3 to 5 
inches long. Its sap produces the famous maple sugar. This is the 
emblem of Canada. 

There is a black barked variety called Black Sugar Maple (A. nigrum). 
It is of doubtful status. 





Forestry 



443 



snrz^p^^^T^ 




Silver Maple, White or Soft Maple. {Acer saccharinwn) 

Usually a little smaller than the Sugar Maple and much inferior as 
timber. Wood hard, close-grained. A cubic foot weighs t^^ lbs. 
Leaves 5 to 7 inches long. This tree produces a little sugar. It is noted 
for its yellow foliage in autumn. 





444 



The Book of Woodcraft 




Red, Scarlet, Water or Swamp Maple. (Acer rubrum) 

A fine tree the same size as the preceding. Noted for its flaming 
crimson foliage in fall, as well as its red leafstalks, flowers and fruit 
earlier. Its wood is light-colored, tinged reddish, close-grained, smooth 
with varieties of grain, as in Sugar Maple; heavy. A cubic foot weighs 
39 lbs. Leaves 2 to 6 inches long. Produces a little sugar. In the 
woods there is a common bush 3 to 6 feet high, with leaves much like 
those of this maple, but the bush has berries on it, it is called the 
Maple-leaved Viburnum (see later). 





Forestry 445 

"A small Red Maple has grown, perchance, far away at the head of 
some retired valley, a mile from any road, unobserved. It has faithfully 
discharged all the duties of a maple there, all winter and summer neg- 
lected none of its economies, but added to its stature in the virtue 
which belongs to a maple, by a steady growth for so many months, and 
is much nearer heaven than it was in the spring. It has faithfully 
husbanded its sap, and afforded a shelter to the wandering bird, has 
long since ripened its seeds and committed them to the winds. It de- 
serves well of mapledom. Its leaves have been asking it from time to 
time in a whisper, 'When shall we redden?' and now in this month of 
September, this month of traveling, when men are hastening to the sea- 
side, or the mountains, or the lakes, this modest maple, still without 
budging an inch, travels in its reputation — runs up its scarlet flag on 
that hillside, which shows that it finished its summer's work before all 
other trees, and withdrawn from the contest. At the eleventh hour of 
the year, the tree which no scrutiny could have detected here when it 
was most industrious is thus, by the tint of its maturity, by its very 
blushes, revealed at last to the careless and distant traveler, and 
leads his thoughts away from the dusty road into those brave solitudes 
which it inhabits; it flashes out conspicuous with all the virtue and 
beauty of a maple — Acer ruhrum. We may read its title, or rubric, 
clear. Its virtues not its sins are as scarlet." (Thoreau.) 

"Never was a tree more appropriately named than the Red Maple. 
Its first blossom flushes red in the April sunlight, its keys ripen scarlet 
in early May, all summer long its leaves swing on crimson or scarlet 
stems, its young twigs flame in the same colors and later, amid all the 
brilliancy of the autumnal forest, it stands preeminent and unap- 
proachable." (Keeler.) 



446 



The Book of Woodcraft 




Box Elder or Ash-Leaved Maple. (Acer Negundo) 

A small tree, 40 or 50 up to 70 feet high, found chiefly along streams. 
Wood pale, soft, close-grained, light. A cubic foot weighs 27 lbs. 
Poor fuel. Makes paper-pulp. Leaflets 2 to 4 inches long. Sap 
yields a delicate white sugar. Chiefly in Mississippi Valley and north 
to Manitoba, but in the eastern states as an escape from cultivation. 

"It was usual to make sugar from maples, but several other trees 
were also tapped by the Indians. From the birch and ash was made a 
dark-colored sugar, with a somewhat bitter taste, which was used for 
medicinal purposes. The box-elder yielded a beautiful white sugar, 
whose only fault was that there was never enough of it." ("Indian 
Boyhood," p. 32, by Charles A. Eastman.) 




Forestry 







19. ^SCULACE^ — BUCKEYE FAMILY 
Buckeye, Fetid Buckeye, Ohio Buckeye. {jEscuIus glabra) 
Not a large tree, up to 50 feet high. So called because the dark 
brown nut peeping from the prickly husk is like the half-opened eye of 
a buck. Leaflets 5, rarely 7, 3 to 6 inches long. Wood, soft, close- 
fijrained, light. A cubic foot weighs 28 lbs. Sapwood darkest, 
used for wooden legs and dishes. 




448 



The Book of Woodcraft 



"7 \( Amih' 




WW 



YELLOW SI^££:T 
Oft BIG BUCK BYE. 

AESCULUS OCTANDnf< 




1 L/^-TT^' xV 




Yellow Sweet or Big Buckeye. {Msculus octandra) 

A good-sized tree; up to go feet high. "Sweet" because its bark is 
less ill smelling than that of its kin. (Keeler.) Wood, soft and white, 
27 lbs., per cubic foot, husk of nut, smooth — leaflets 5, rarely 7, 4 
inches long; 2 to 3 inches wide. 




Forestry 449 

[Horse Chestnut or Bongay. (JEsculus Hippocastanum) 

A large tree sometimes 100 feet high. Wood, soft, white, close- 
grained; poor timber. Leaflets 5 to 7 inches long. A foreigner; now 
widely introduced in parks and roadsides; named either as "horse-radish," 
"horse-fiddle" and "horse bean" were through using the word "horse" to 
mean large and coarse, or possibly because the scars on the twigs look 
like the orint of a horse's hoof. 





450 



The Book of Woodcraft 




20. TILIACE^ — LINDEN FAMILY 



Basswood, White- wood, Whistle- wood, Lime or Linden. {Tilia 

americana) 

A tall forest tree 60 to 125 feet high; usually hollow when old. Wood 
soft, straight-grained, weak, white, very light. A cubic foot weighs 
28 lbs. It makes a good dugout canoe or sap trough. The hollow 
trunk, split in halves, was often used for roofing (see log-cabin). Poor 
firewood, and soon rots; makes good rubbing sticks for friction fire. 
Its inner bark supplies coarse cordage and matting. Its buds are often 
eaten as emergency food. Leaves 2 to 5 inches wide. Its nuts are 
delicious food, but small. 

There are two other species of the family, Southern Basswood {T. 
pubescens) known by its small leaves and the Bee tree {T. heterophylla) 
known by its very large leaves. 

Basswood Whistle. Take a piece of a young shoot of basswood, smooth 
and straight, about 6 inches long, without knots, bevel the end. 
Hammer this all around with a flat stick or roll it between two 
flat boards. Very soon the bark can be slipped off in one whole piece. 
Now cut the stick to the shape of a whistle plug, slip the bark on again 
and you have a whistle. 

Make it longer and cut off the plug, add holes and you have a 
pipe. 

The exquisite spotless purity of the wood laid bare when the bark is 
slipped off is so delicate and complete that a mere finger touch is a de- 
filement. It is from this we get the phrase "clean as a whistle." 



Forestry 



4SI 






Nut, life size 



452 



The Book of Woodcraft 




21. CORNACE^ — DOGWOOD FAMILY 

Flowering Dogwood, Arrow-wood, Boxwood, Cornelian Tree, 

(Cynoxylon floridum) 

A small tree 1 5 to 20 feet, rarely 40, with bark beautifully pebbled or 
of alligator pattern. Wood hard, close, tough, strong, and heavy, 
a cubic foot weighing 51 lbs. Noted for its masses of beautiful white 
bloom in spring. A tea of its roots is a good substitute for quinine. 
Leaves 3 to 5 inches long. 




Forestry 



453 




Sour Gum, Black Gum, Pepperidge or Tupelo. (Nyssa sylvatica) 

A forest tree up to no feet high; in wet lands. Wood pale, very 
strong, tough, unsplittable and heavy. A cubic foot weighs 40 lbs. 
Used for turner work, but soon rots next the ground. Leaves 2 to 5 
inches long. Noted for its brilliant fiery autumn foliage. 





454 



The Book of Woodcraft 







22. EBENACE^ — EBONY FAMILY 

Persimmon or Date Plum. {Diospyros virginiana) 

A small tree 30 to 50 feet high, famous for the fruit so astringent and 
puckery when unripe, so luscious when frosted and properly mature. 
Leaves 4 to 6 inches long. 

"In respect to the power of making heartwood, the Locust and the 
Persimmon stand at the extreme opposite ends of the list. The Locust 
changes its sapwood into heartwood almost at once, while the Persim- 
mon rarely develops any heartwood until it is nearly one hundred years 
old. This heartwood is extremely close-grained and almost black. 




Forestry 



455 



Really, it is ebony, but our climate is not favorable to its production." 
(Keeler.) Wood very heavy, dark and strong, a cubic foot weighs 
49 lbs. Rhode Island to Florida and west to Ohio and Oklahoma where 
it becomes a tall tree. 




^^ /V^]^\., \ 



23. OLEACE^, OLIVE FAMILY (INCLUDING THE ASHES) 

White Ash. (Fraxinus americana) 

A fine forest tree on moist soil: 70 to 90 or even 130 feet high. 
Wood pale brown, tough, and elastic. Used for handles, springs, bows, 
also arrows and spears; heavy. A cubic foot weighs 41 lbs. Soon rots 
next the ground. Yellow in autumn; its leaflets have stalks, noted for 
being last to leaf and first to shed in the forest. Called white for the 
silvery undersides of the leaves; these are 8 to 12 inches long; each leaflet 
3 to 5 inches long. 




456 



The Book of Woodcraft 




Red Ash or Green Ash. (Fraxinus pennsylvanica) 

A small tree rarely 80 feet high. Wood light brown, coarse, hard, 
strong, brittle heavy. A cubic foot weighs 44 lbs. The Red Ash is 
downy on branchlet, leaf and leaf-stalk while the White Ash is in the 
main smooth, otherwise their leaves are much alike. The Green is a 
variety of the Red. 




Forestry 



457 





Leaf and seeds of Red Ash 



The Book of Woodcraft 




Water Ash. (Fraxinus caroUniana) 

A small tree rarely over 40 feet high. Wood whitish soft, weak. 
A cubic foot weighs 22 lbs; leaflets 5 to 7, or rarely 9; 2 to 5 inches long. 
In swamps and along streams. 





Forestry 



459 




Blue Ash. (Fraxinus quadrangulata) 

A tall tree of the Mississippi Valley, over loo feet high. Wood light 
yellow, hard, close, heavy. A cubic foot weighs 45 lbs. Leaflets 7 to 
II, 3 to 5 inches long. "The inner bark yields a blue color to water; 
hence its name." "It may be distinguished among ashes by its peculiar, 
stout, four-angled, four-winged branches." (Keeler.) 




460 



The Book of Woodcraft 






r %,. .i V ^ L I v »r 




BLACK ASH 
HOOPASHoH WATER ASH 
FRAXINUS f^lGRA 



Black Ash, Hoop Ash or Water Ash. (Fraxinus nigra) 

A tall forest tree of swampy places; 70, 80 or rarely 100 feet high. 
Wood dark brown, tough, soft, course, heavy. A cubic foot weighs 39 
lbs. Soon rots next to the ground. Late in the spring to leaf, and 
early to shed in the fall. The leaves are 12 to 16 inches long; its leaflets 
except the last have no stalk, thev number 7 to 11, are 2 to 6 inches long. 




Forestry 



461 



Sometimes called Elder-leaved Ash because its leaves somewhat re- 
semble the leaves of the Elder, but they are much larger and the leaflets 
of the latter have slight stalks, especially those near the base and are 
on a succulent green stem which is deeply grooved on top. The thick 
bumpy twigs of the Black Ash with the black triangular winter buds 
are strong characters at all seasons. 




24. CAPRIFOLIACI^— HONEYSUCKLE FAMILY 

Elder, Elder-blow, Elderberry, Sweet Elder or Bore Plant. 

{Sambucus canadensis) 

A bush 4 to ID feet high, well known for its large pith which can be 
pushed out so as to make a natural pipe, commonly used for whistles, 





462 



The Book of Woodcraft 



squirts, etc. Its black sweet berries are used for making wine. Its leaves 
are somewhat like those of Black Ash, but have a green succulent 
stalk. A tea of the inner bark is a powerful diuretic. The young leaf- 
buds are a drastic purgative; they may be ground up and taken as 
decoction in very small doses. The leaves are 8 to 1 2 inches long ; leaflets, 
5 to II, usually 7, and 2 to 5 inches long. There is another species with 
red berries. It is called the Mountain Elder (S. pubens) and is found 
from New Brunswick to British Columbia, and southeast to California 
and Georgia. It has orange pith and purple leafstalks whereas Cana- 
densis has yellow pith and green leafstalks. 




Forestry 

















High Bush Cranberry, Cranberry Tree, Wild Guelder Ro:e. 

{yHurnum Opulus) 

A bush lo to 12 feet high. Noted for its delicious acid fruit, bright 
red, translucent and in Igrge bunches, each with a large flat seed. Leaves 
2 to 3 inches long. Found in low grounds from New Brunswick to 
British Columbia. South to New Jersey, also in the Old World. 





464 



The Book of Woodcraft 









MAPLS-LEAVED AfiPOW-WOOD. 

OOCK-MAKIE. 
VlBURNUt^ ACERIFOLtUt^t 



II 




■(" 




Maple-leaved Arrow-wood, Dock-makie. {Viburnum acerifolium) 

A forest bush, 3 to 6 feet high. Chiefly noted because of its abundance 
in the hard woods where it is commonly taken for a young maple. The 
style of its leaves however distinguish it, also its berries, these are black 
with a large lentil-shaped seed. Leaves 3 to 5 inches long. 





Forestry 



465 







Arrow- WOOD. {Viburnum dentatum) 

A forest bush, up to 15 feet high; its remarkably straight shoots sup- 
plied shafts for the Indian's arrows. Leaves 2 to 3 inches long. Its 
berries blue-black, with a large stone grooved on one side and rounded 
on the other. In moist soil. 





466 



The Book of Woodcraft 




Nanny-berry, Nanny-bush, Sheep-berry, Blackthorn, Sweet 
ViBURNUM. {Viburnum Lenta go) 

A small tree, up to 30 feet high. Noted for its clusters of sweet rich 
purplish-black berries, each half an inch long, but containing a large 
oval, flattened seed. Leaves 2 to 4 inches long. Wood hard, a cubic 
foot weighs 45 lbs. It is the largest of the group. 




Forestry 



467 



• il \^l^^-^' STAG BUSH.SLOE. \-U\^ ^ 

^ J.\ . I . ^^ \/iailOI>JI IK/I DOI lhJICI\l IIIKH !• '. ■-■J \ I 








Black Haw, Stag Bush, Sloe. {Viburnum prunijolium) 

A small tree up to 20 or 30 feet high, much like the Nanny-berry; 
fruit black, sweet and edible. Leaves i to 3 inches long. Wood hard, 
a cubic foot weighs 52 lbs. In dry soil. 






XIV* Some Indian Ways 

Teepees 

(From Ladies^ Home Journal, September, 1902) 

MANY famous campers have said that the Indian 
teepee is the best known movable home. It is 
roomy, self-ventilating, cannot blow down, and 
is the only tent that admits of a fire inside. 

Then why is it not everywhere used? Because of the 
difficulty of the poles. If on the prairie, you must carry 
your poles. If in the woods, you must cut them at each 
camp. 

General Sibley, the famous Indian fighter, invented a 
teepee with a single pole, and this is still used by our army. 
But it will not do for us. Its one pole is made in part of 
iron, and is very cumbersome as well as costly. 

In the "Buffalo days" the teepee was made of buffalo 
skin; now it is made of some sort of canvas or cotton, but it 
is decorated much in the old style. 

I tried to get an extra fine one made by the Indians, 
especially as a model for our boys, but I found this no easy 
matter. I could not go among the red folk and order it as 
in a department store. 

At length I solved the difficulty by buying one ready 
made, from Thunder Bull, a chief of the Cheyennes. 

It appears at the left end of the row of teepees heading 

this chapter. 

468 



Some Indian Ways 469 

This is a 20-footer and is large enough for 10 boys to 
live in. A large one is easier to keep clear of smoke, but 
most boys will prefer a smaller one, as it is much handier, 
cheaper, and easier to make. I shall therefore give the 
working plan of a lo-foot teepee of the simplest form — 
the raw material of which can be bought new for about 

$5- 

It requires 22 square yards of 6- or 8-ounce duck, heavy 
unbleached muslin, or Canton flannel (the wider the better, 
as that saves labor in making up), which costs about $4; 
100 feet of yV-inch clothesline, 25 cents; string for sewing 
rope ends, etc., 5 cents. 

Of course, one can often pick up second-hand materials 
that are quite good and cost next to nothing. An old 
wagon cover, or two or three old sheets, will make the tee- 
pee, and even if they are patched it is all right; the Indian 
teepees are often mended where bullets and arrows have 
gone through them. Scraps of rope, if not rotted, will 
work in well enough. 

Suppose you have new material to deal with. Get it 
machine run together 20 feet long and 10 feet wide. Lay 
this down perfectly flat (Cut I). On a peg or nail 
at A in the middle of the long side put a lo-foot cord loosely, 
and then with a burnt stick in a loop at the other end draw 
the half -circle BCD. Now mark out the two little tri- 
angles at A. A E is 6 inches, A F and E F each one foot; 
the other triangle, A R G, is the same size. Cut the canvas 
along these dotted Hnes. From the scraps left over cut 
two pieces for smoke-flaps, as shown. On the long corner 
of each (H in No. i, I in No. 2) a small three-cornered piece 
should be sewed, to make a pocket for the end of the pole. 

Now sew the smoke-flaps to the cover so that M L of No. 
I is neatly fitted to P E, and N O of No. 2 to Q D. 

Two inches from the edge B P make a double row of holes; 



470 



The Book of Woodcraft 



each hole is i^ inches from its mate, and each pair is 5 inches 
from the next pair, except at the 2-foot space marked 
"door," where no holes are needed. 

3 £ A ft. 



TTrr 



Door 



E\/\/G '»*»*"j)oor"; 



L 



V 5ft. ^ 






,•11^ w, 



H 



5cawie Six reet *» 

Pattern of 10-Pool Teepee. 



Cut I 




The Complete Teepee Cover — Unornamentcd. 
A — Frame (or Door. 
£ — Door Completed. 



Cut II 



The holes on the other side, Q D,. must exactly fit on 
these. 
At A fasten very strongly a 4-foot rope by the middle. 



Some Indian Ways 



471 



Fasten the end of a lo-foot cord to J and another to K; 
hem a rope all along in the bottom, BCD, Cut 12 pieces 
of rope each about 15 inches long, fasten one firmly to the 
canvas at B, another at the point D, and the rest at regular 
distances to the hem rope along the edge between, for peg 
loops. The teepee cover is now made. 

For the door (some never use one) take a Hmber sapling 
f inch thick and 5^ feet long, also one 22 inches long. Bend 
the long one into a horseshoe and fasten the short one 
across the ends (A in Cut II). On this stretch canvas, 
leaving a flap at the top in the middle of which two 
small holes are made (B, Cut II), so as to hang the door on 
a lacing-pin. Nine of these lacing-pins are needed. They 
are of smooth, round, straight, hard wood, a foot long and 
J inch thick. Their way of skewering the two edges to- 
gether is seen in the Omaha teepee at the end of the line 
below. 




/htiii 



VUUfMt XC>t>n>l 



STORM CAP OR BULL-BOAT 



During long continued or heavy rains, a good deal of 
water may come in the smoke vent or drip down the 
poles. To prevent this the Missouri Indians would use 
a circular bull-boat of rawhide on a frame of willows as 
a storm cap. 

For a twelve-foot teepee the storm cap should be about 
four feet across and eighteen inches deep, made of 



472 



The Book of Woodcraft 




canvas with a hem edge 
in which is a limber 
rod to keep it in cir- 
cular shape. It is usu- 
ally put on with a 
loose teepee pole, and 
sits on top of the poles 
as shown, held down 
if need be by cords to 
its edge. 

The poles should be 
short and even for this. 



PUTTING UP THE TEEPEE 



Twelve poles also are needed. They should be as straight 
and smooth as possible; crooked, rough poles are signs of a 
bad housekeeper — a squaw is known by her teepee poles. 
They should be 13 or 14 feet long and about i inch thick 
at the top. Two are for the smoke- vent; they may be more 
slender than the others. Last of all, make a dozen stout 
short pegs about 15 inches long and about i^ inches thick. 
Now all the necessary parts of the teepee are made. 

This is how the Indian tent is put up : Tie three* poles to- 
gether at a point about i foot higher than the canvas, spread 
them out in a tripod the right distance apart; then lay the 
other poles (except three including the two slender ones) in 
the angles, their lower ends forming a small circle. Bind 
them all with a rope, letting its end hang down inside for an 
anchor. Now fasten the two ropes at A Cut I to the stout 
pole left over at a point 10 feet up. Raise this into its place, 
and the teepee cover with it, opposite where the door is to be. 
Carry the two wings of the tent around till they overlap 
and fasten together with the lacing-pins. Put the end of a 

*Some use four and find it stronger. 



Some Indian Ways 



473 



vent-pole in each of the vent flap pockets, outside of the 
teepee. Peg down the edges of the canvas at each loop. 
Stretch the cover by spreading the poles. Hang the door 
on a convenient lacing-pin. Drive a stout stake inside the 
teepee, tie the anchor rope to this and the teepee is ready 




/*-: 



3'? Sit (/(> teniK /">'«, 
fisfenfi to it 





SIX />«'«» 



-» * 



for weather. In the centre dig a hole i8 inches wide and 
6 inches deep for the fire. 

The fire is the great advantage of the teepee, 
experience will show how to manage the smoke. Keep 
the smoke-vent swung down wind, or at least quarter- 
ing down. Sometimes you must leave the door a 



474 



The Book of Woodcraft 



little open or raise the bottom of the teepee cover a 
little on the windward side. If this makes too much draught 
on your back, stretch a piece of canvas between two 




Decoiatious of a Teepee and Two Ezamoles of Doors. 



or three of the poles inside the teepee, in front of the opening 
made and reaching to the ground. The draught will go up 
behind this. 



Some Indian Ways 



475 



By these tricks you can make the vent draw the smoke. 
But after all the main thing is to use only the best and 
-driest of wood. This makes a clear fire. There will 
, dways be more or less smoke 7 or 8 feet up, but it worries 
no one there and keeps the mosquitoes away. 




RED — All parts marked so: lUUlulj-_ Smoke-flaps and all tops of teepees, stem 
of pipe, lower half-circle under pipe, middle part of bowl, wound on side 
of Elk. blood falling and on trail; Horse, middle Buffalo, two inner bars 
of pathway upback; also short, dark, cross-bars, spot on middle of two 
door-hangers, and fringe of totem at top of pathway, and two black lines 
on doorway, 

YELLOW — All parts marked so: ' r ■">:■: ••I TTnner half-circle under pipe stem, 
upper half of each feather on pipe; horseman with bridle, saddle and one 
hindfoot of Horse; the largest Buffalo, the outside upright of the pathway; 
the ground colors of the totem; the spotted cross-bars of pathway; the 
four patches next the ground, the two patches over door, and the rings 
of door-hanger. _____ 

GREEN — All parts marked so. f^^Wii Bowl of pipe, spot over it; feather 
tips of same; Elk, first Buffalo, middle line on each side pathway, and 
around teepee top; two dashed cross-bars on totem and dashed cross-bars 
on pathway; bar on which Horse walks; lower edge and line of spots on 
upper part of door. 



hairy-wolf's teepef 



Marked with a peace pipe in Cut p. 468 is Hairy- Wolf's 
teepee. I came across this on the Upper Missouri in 1897. 



476 



The Book of Woodcraft 



It was the most brilliant affair I ever saw on the Plains, 
for on the bright red ground of the canvas were his totems 
and medicine, in yellow, blue, green, and black. The day 
I sketched it, a company of United States soldiers under 




Chipewyan teepees with separate smoke flap 




^Uc 



Ci^i-^ 



orders had forcibly taken away his two children "to send 
them to school, according to law"; so Hairy- Wolf was going 
off at once, without pitching his tent. His little daughter, 
"The Fawn," looked at me with fear, thinking I was 
coming to drag her off to school. I coaxed her, then gave 



Some Indian Ways 



477 



her a quarter. She smiled, because she knew it would buy 
sweetmeats. 

Then I said: "Little Fawn, run and tell your father that I 
am his friend, and I want to see his great red teepee. " 




No. 1. 



No. 2. 



No. 3. 




No. 4. 



No. 5. 



No. 6. 




No. 7. No. 8. No. 9. 

Various tepees (smoke poles left out). 

"The Fawn" came back and said, "My father hates 
you. " 

"Tell your mother that I will pay if she will put up 
the teepee." 



478 The Book of Woodcraft 

"The Fawn" went to her mother, and improving my 
offer, told her that "that white man will give much money 
to see the red teepee up. " 

The squaw looked out. I held up a dollar and got only 
a sour look, but another squaw appeared. After some 
haggling they agreed to put up the teepee for $3. The 
poles were already standing. They unrolled the great 
cloth and deftly put it up in less than 20 minutes, but did 
not try to put down the anchor rope, as the ground was too 
hard to drive a stake into. 

My sketch was half finished when the elder woman called 
the younger and pointed westward. They chattered 
together a moment and then proceeded to take down the 
teepee. I objected. They pointed angrily toward the 
west and went on. I protested that I had paid for the 
right to make the sketch; but in spite of me the younger 
squaw scrambled like a monkey up the front pole, drew 
the lacing-pins, and the teepee was down and rolled up in 
ten minutes. 

I could not understand the pointing to the west, but five 
minutes after the teepee was down a dark spot appeared; 
this became a cloud and in a short time we were in the midst 
of a wind-storm that threw down all teepees that were 
without the anchor rope, and certainly the red teepee would 
have been one of those to suffer but for the sight and fore- 
sight of the old Indian woman. 

ART 

All students of the Indian art are satisfied that in this we 
find the beginnings of something that may develop into a 
great and original school of decoration. Not having 
learned their traditions, conventions, and inner impulse, 
we believe that at present we shall do best by preserv- 



Some Indian Ways 479 

ing and closely copying the best of the truly native pro- 
ductions. 

Therefore, in decorating; teepees, etc., we use only literal 
copies of the good Indkui work. 




INDIAN SEATS 

Most boys are glad to learn of something they can make 
to sell for money. So I shall give you some designs for 
household furniture that every scout can make — they are 
not mission, but quite as serviceable and much more of a 
novelty : I mean real Indian furniture. It is very safe to say 
that everything you need in camp, from hair-combs to beds, 
blankets, and signboards, was made by the Indian in a 
more original way than any of us can expect to reach with- 
out help. 

Very few of the Plains Indians made furniture, as we 
understand it, but those on the West Coast did. We may 
follow many of their designs exactly. 

One of the simplest and most useful things is the low 
stool. Many of these are shown in Cuts I and II. These 
designs are closely copied after West Coast Indian work, 
though originally used to decorate boxes. 

A chief's chair (e, f, g, h) is a fine thing to make for a 
Lodge-room or for sale, but in camp we seldom see any- 
thing so elaborate. Indeed, few fellows feel like doing 
cabinet work when out under the trees. They are not 
there for that purpose. In several cases we have made a 
fine throne for the chief out of rough, field stone; i in 



480 



The Book of Woodcraft 









SM»& 



^^^^^^% 




Cut I 



Some Indian Ways 



481 




^^-^^^^? -- -' - V 




/' ! ■ ' V i 't;' 'K^'(>v".',' '';' ''^ ^{ 






Cut n 



482 



The Book of Woodcraft 



Cut II is an example of this. The seat should be not 
more than two feet from the ground, and even at that 
height should have a footstool. 

The stool J is of white man's construction, but Indian 
decoration, in red, black and white. 

The log seat, or Council seat, K, is a useful thing that each 
Band should make in the Council ring. It is simply a log 
flattened on top, on the front side. It has a board back, 
supported on two or three stakes, as shown in L. This is 
designed for the "Otters." 



HEAD-BAND 



Each brave needs a head-band. This holds his feathers 
as they are won and his scalp if he wears one is fastened to it 
behind. It consists of a strip of soft leather, long enough to 
go around the head and overlap by two inches; it is fastened 




at the rear, with a lace through the four holes, like the lace 
of machine belting. A bead pattern ornaments the front 
and it may be finished at each side in some broader design. 
It is the foundation for the warbonnet and has places for 
twenty-four feathers (two eagle tails). See Warbonnet 
later. 



Some Indian Ways 483 

The feathers are made of white quill feathers, the tip dyed 
dark brown or black; a leather loop is lashed to the quill end 
of each to fasten it on to the head-band. Each feather 
stands for an exploit and is awarded by the Council. An 
oval of paper is glued on near the high end. This bears a 
symbol of the feat it commemorates. If it was Grand 
Coup or High Honor, the feather has a tuft of red horsehair 
lashed on the top. 

WARBONNET OR HEADDRESS ITS MEANING 

The tjrpical Indian is always shown with a warbonnet, or 
warcap, of eagle feathers. Every one is familiar with the 
look of this headdress, but I find that few know its mean- 
ing or why the Indian glories in it so. 

In the days when the Redman was unchanged by 
white men's ways, every feather in the brave's headdress 
was awarded to him by the Grand Council for some great 
deed, usually in warfare. Hence the expression, "a feather 
in his cap." These deeds are now called coups (pro- 
nounced coo), and when of exceptional valor they were 
grand coups, and the eagle's feather had a tuft of horse- 
hair, or down, fastened on its top. Not only was each 
feather bestowed for some exploit, but there were also 
ways of marking the feathers so as to show the kind 
of deed. 

Old plainsmen give an exciting picture in Indian Hfe after 
the return of a successful war party. All assemble in the 
Grand Council lodge of the village. First the leader of the 
party stands up, holding in his hands or having near him the 
scalps or other trophies he has taken, and says in a loud 
voice: 

" Great Chief and Council of my Nation, I claim a grand 
coup, because I went alone into the enemy's camp and 



4^4 The Book of Woodcraft 

learned about their plans, and when I came away I met one 
of them and killed him within his own camp. " 

Then if all the witnesses grunt and say: "fiTw/" or "How! 
How! " ("So — it is so ") the Council awards the warrior an 
eagle feather with a red tuft and a large red spot on the web, 
which tell why it was given. 

The warrior goes on: "I claim grand coup because I 
slapped the enemy's face with my hand (thereby warning 
him and increasing the risk) before I killed him with my 
knife." 

A loud chorus of "How! How! How!" from the others 
sustains him, and he is awarded another grand coup. 

"I claim grand coup because I captured his horse while 
two of his friends were watching. " 

Here, perhaps, there are murmurs of dissent from the 
witnesses; another man claims that he also had a hand in it. 
There is a dispute and maybe both are awarded a coup, but 
neither gets grand coup. The feathers are marked with a 
horseshoe, but without a red tuft. 

The killing of one enemy might (according to Mallery 
4 Ann. Eth. p. 184) confer feathers on four different men 
— the first, second, and third to strike him, and the one 
who took his scalp. 

After the chief each of the warriors comes forward in turn 
and claims, and is awarded, his due honors to be worn ever 
afterward on state occasions. All awards are made and 
all disputes settled by the Council, and no man would dream 
of being so foolish as to wear an honor that had not been 
conferred by them, or in any way to dispute their ruling. 

In the light of this we see new interest attach to the head- 
dress of some famous warrior of the West when he is shown 
with a circle of tufted feathers around his head, and then 
added to that a tail of one hundred or more reaching to the 
ground or trailing behind him. We know that, like the 



Some Indian Ways 485 

rows of medals on an old soldier's breast, they are the record 
of wonderful past achievements, that every one of them was 
won perhaps at the risk of his Ufe. What wonder is it that 
travelers on the plains to-day tell us that the Indian values 
his headdress above all things else. He would usually pre- 
fer to part with his ponies and his teepee before he will give 
up that array of eagle plumes, the only tangible record that 
he has of whatever was heroic in his past. 

PLENTY-COUPS 

I remember vividly a scene I once witnessed years ago in 
the West when my attention was strongly directed to the 
significance of the warbonnet. I was living among a cer- 
tain tribe of Indians and one day they were subjected to a 
petty indignity by a well-meaning, ill-advised missionary. 
Two regiments of United States Cavalry were camped near, 
and so, being'within the letter of the law, he also had power 
to enforce it. But this occurrence was the last of a long 
series of foolish small attacks 
on their harmless customs, 
and it roused the Indians, es- 
pecially the younger ones, to 
the point of rebelhon. 

A Grand Council was called. 
A warrior got up and made a 
strong, logical appeal to their 
manhood — a tremendously stir- 
ring speech. He worked them 
all up and they were ready to 
go on the warpath, with him to 
lead them. I felt that my scalp 
was in serious danger, for an 
outburst seemed at hand. 




486 



The Bcxjk of Woodcraft 



But now there arose a big, square-jawed man, who had 
smoked in silence. He made a very short speech. It was 
full of plain, good sense. He told them what he knew about 
the United States Army — how superior it was to all the 
Indian tribes put together, how hopeless it was to fight it — 
and urged them to give up the fooHsh notion of the war- 
path. His speech would not compare with that of the 
other. He had neither the fire nor the words — he had not 
even the popular sympathy, and yet he quelled the dis- 
turbance in his few sentences, and as I looked there dawned 
on me the reason for his power. While the gifted orator of 
the big words had in his hair a single untuf ted eagle feather, 
the other, the man with the square jaw, had eagle feathers 
all around his head and trailing down his back and two feet 




DETAILS or THE WARBONNET 

The plain white Goose or Turkey feather. 

The same, with tip dyed black. 

The same, showing ruff of white down lashed on with wax end. 

The same, showing leather loop lashed on for the holding lace. 

The same, viewed edge on. 

The same, with a red flannel cover sewn and lashed on the quill. This is a "coup feather." 

The same, with a tuft of red horsehair lashed on the top to mark a "grand coup" and 

(a) a thread through the middle of the rib to hold the feather in proper place. Thia 

feather is marked with the symbol of a grand coup in target shooting. 



Some Indian Ways 



487 




8. The tip of a feather showing tow the red horsehair tuft is lashed on with fine waxed 
thread. 

9. The groundwork of the warbonnet made of any soft leather, (a) a broad band, to go round 
the head laced at the joint or seam behind; (b) a broad tail behind as long as needed ta 
hold all the wearer's feathers; (c) two leather thongs or straps over the top; (d) leather 
string to tie under the chin; {e) the buttons, conchas or side ornaments of shells, silver, 
horn, or wooden disks, even small mirrors and circles of beadwork were used, and some- 
times the conchas were left out altogether; they may have the owner's totem on them, 
usually a bunch of ermine tails hung from each side of the bonnet just below the concha. 
A bunch of horsehair will answer as well; (hh) the holes in the leather for holding 
the lace of the feather; 24 feathers are needed for the full bonnet, without the tail, 
80 they are put less than an inch apart; (.in) the lacing holes on the tail; this is as long 
as the wearer's feathers call for; some never have any tail. 

10. Side view of the leather framework, showing a pattern sometimes used to decorate the 
front. 

11, 12 and 13. Beadwork designs for front band of bonnet; all have white grounds. 

No. II (Arapaho) has green band at top and bottom with red zigzag. No. 12 (Ogallala) 
has blue band at top and bottom, red triangle; the concha is blue with three white 
bars and is cut off from the band by a red bar. No. 13 (Sioux) has narrow band above 
and broad band below blue, the triangle red, and the two little stars blue with yel- 
low centre. 

14. The bases of three feathers, showing how the lace comes out of the cap leather, through 
the eye or loop on the bottom of the quill and in again. 

15. The completed bonnet, showing how the feathers of the crown should spread out, als« 
showing the thread that passes through the middle of each feather on inner side to hold 
it in place; another thread passes from the point where the two straps (c in 9) join 
then down through each feather in the tail. 



488 



The Book of Woodcraft 



on the ground behind him, and every one of them with a 
bright red tuft of horsehair at its top, and I knew then that 
I was Ustening to the voice of Plenty-Coups, the most 
famous chief on the Upper Missouri, and I realized how a 
few words from the man of deeds will go further than all the 
stirring speeches of one who has no record of prowess to 
back up his threats and fiery denunciations. 

MAKING THE WARBONNET 



Most modern warbonnets take the crown of a felt hat as 
a basis, but the ancient way was to use a broad buckskin 
band, as shown in the illustration. 




^ 



f 











Tail feathers of the war eagle were considered essential 
at one time, but many others are now used. I should be 
sorry to increase a demand which would stimulate pursuit of 
a noble bird already threatened with extinction. 

Most of the big feather dealers have what are known as 
"white quills." These are wing feathers of swans and are 



Some Indian Ways 489 

sold at about 25 cents a dozen. These, when the tips are 
dyed brown, make a good substitute for eagle feathers. 
They are still more like if a little down from a white hen 
be lashed on. 

The process of lashing a leather loop on the quill with a 
waxed thread, and of fastening a red tuft of horsehair on 
the top for the grand coup are sufficiently shown in the 
above illustration. 



INDIAN COSTUME 

War shirt. Next to the Indian warbonnet, the war shirt 
or coat is the most effective part of the costume. This 
may be made out of leather, khaki, woolen stuff, or even 
muslin. The finest ones used to be made of tanned deer 
skin, but those are very expensive. Buff-tanned calf or 
sheep skins, such as may be got at any leather shop, are 
quite as good for our purpose. It takes two or even three 
skins to make a war shirt. Sheep costs about 60 or 70 
cents a skin, and calf at least double or even three times 
that, so that a good strong khaki at one third the price of 
sheep is likely to be more popular. 

The pattern for making the war shirt is much like that of 
a common cotton shirt, except that it has no tucks. It fits 
a little more closely to the body while the sleeves are loose 
and without wristbands. In sewing it is usual to put into 
each sleeve at the back of the arm a long piece of leather 
three or four inches wide, and this is cut into fringe after- 
ward. The bottom of the coat also is decorated with fringe. 

The oldest style of war shirt was closed at the throat with 
tie strings, but some of the Indians used buttons after they 
saw how convenient they were. 

The decorations are the most Indian part of it. Two 
kinds are in good usage: one, embroidery of quills or beads; 



490 



The Book of Woodcraft 



the other, painted figures. Fine effects can be secured in 
either way. 

The first illustration shows a war shirt of the beaded 
style. These strips of beadwork are prepared on one of the 
beadlooms and sewn on afterward. The second is a quill- 
work device. 

This is, of course, a mere suggestion. One may vary 
it in any way, though it will be found best always to use but 





Tmfriis re«< 



Beaded war shirt, etc. 



< 






3 








A ' 


4 






1 








tt 


4 




f 


s 




/ LM 


on 


L 


^ 


li 



few colors in the beads. In unskilled hands a bead pattern 
of two colors is better than one of four colors. 

Bands of beadwork may be added on the outside of each 
arm in front of the fringes, as well as around the outer half 
of each cuff at the bottom, or they may be omitted alto- 
gether and the decorations done with paint. The Indians 
used native paints and dyes ground up in a mixture of rosin 



Some Indian Ways 



491 



and grease. Black was made of soot taken from the 
bottom of a pot. Red, yellow, and white were made of clay 




Quill worked war shirt 



roasted and powdered. But common painters' oil colors 
will do very well if thinned out with turpentine. 

Cotton costumes are used very often on the stage 
in Indian scenes; and when the ghost dance was danced in 



492 



The Book of Woodcraft 




Nocc^s/n.TnacCc. OjF ^^Trvbbtr-soLtci shot. orSTtf^K. 
embroiciiry of si'lK , re.ci.whtU, blot W ycLUw. 
'Arou'ncC TA< z^ixKit ^friV^e of U^th:(r 








Making a Moccasin 



Some Indian Ways 493 

Dakota by the Sioux, under Sitting Bull and Short Bull, 
nearly every one of the dancers appeared in a war shirt of 
painted cotton, made in some cases of old cotton flour sack. 

Magnificent examples of war shirts are now to be seen in 
most museums. Many also are pictured in the Reports of 
the Bureau of Ethnology at Washington. 

Leggings. The leggings are best made as ordinary 
trousers, embellished with fringe and beadwork on the sides. 

Moccasins are a staple article of trade; but I have found 
nothing better or more serviceable than a pair of ordinary 
rubber-soled sneaks, decorated with a few beads or a fringe. 

War Clubs. The only use we have for these is in the 
dancing or the ceremonies. They are most easily made of 
wood, and should be about twenty inches long. Painted with 
ordinary oil colors and embellished with tufts of horsehair 
or feathers, they are very picturesque as well as easily made. 

Paddles. The best designs I ever saw for painting pad- 
dles are those of the West Coast Indians. These are shown 
in three colors, black, white, and red — the red being the 
portions cross-lined. 

Drum. While an ordinary bought 
drum does very well for dancing, some 
tribes make their own, using a section of 
a hollow tree (or in some cases a small 
barrel) covered with untanned calf skin. 
It is soaked till soft, scraped clear of 
hair, and tightly stretched over each end 
of the hollow log. As it dries, it shrinks 
and becomes very tense, giving a good 
drum sound. Usually it is tuned up by r/,, ua.xn 2), ^7*. . 
warming at the fire before use. 

Peace Pipe. The favorite peace pipe was of the red 
pipe stone, but I have seen many made of wood. The two 
shown are in my own collection. 




494 



The Book of Woodcraft 





"Ktd. .^ Whitt 




W^rclubs 



^ 




IndiATi Td.ddU'i iTi bl^cK,wh'at \recL 





M inchu Itnd 



Some Indian Ways 495 

THE INDIAN OR WILLOW BED 

The only bed I know of which is light, portable, scout- 
like, made of wildwood stuff that can be got anywhere, 
and costing nothing but a little labor, is the willow or prairie 
bed used by all the Plains Indians. 

This is how it is made: On your first short hike to the 
country go to some stream bank or swamp, and cut about 
seventy straight rods of red willow (kinnikinik), gray willow, 
arrow-wood, or any straight shoots, each about as thick as a 
pencil, when peeled, except one or two that are larger, 
up to half an inch thick ; and all thirty inches long. Tie 
them up in a tight bundle with several cords until you get 
time to work them. Peel them, cut a slight notch in the 
butt of each rod, three quarters of an inch from the end, 
and you are ready to make the bed. 

And here I may say that some fellows, who could not get 
to the country to cut willow rods, have used the ordinary 
bamboo fishing-poles. These are sawed up in 30-inch 
lengths and split to the necessary thinness; the butt end 
yields four or even five of the splints, the top, but one. 
This answers well, and three poles furnish material enough 
for the bed. This is allowable because, though the stuff is 
not of our own woods, it is American; it grows in the 
Southern States. One or two fellows in town have made 
the bed of dowels from a furniture factory. 

Now get a ball of cord, that will stand a 25-Ib. pull, 
a ball of fine linen thread ,» and a piece of shoemakers' wax, 
to complete your materials. 

If outdoors, you can stretch your cords, between two 
small trees about seven feet apart, but it is much easier if 
you make a rough frame of strips or poles seven feet by 
three inside to work on. 

Cut four pieces of the cord, each about twenty feet long. 



496 



The Book of Woodcraft 



Double each and tie a 3-inch hard loop in the middle. 
Twist these doubled cords and put them on a frame (Cut 
No. i), fastened to nails as at A B, the surplus cord wrapped 
around the frame, and the others as at C D E F G and H. 








>jT/4mijrfj£rir.i3 m-ti^^L i:ntr--,'trr-^- -">o-tf ij/wc.'*' 



Tht rii^f/x fr»n>« used in vmHivg th't'btd. 
one >■•</ 1$ 'injiti^t, 

CUT NO. I. 

Take one of the heaviest rods, say a half-inch one, for a 
starter. With a pointed stick, open the two strands of the 
twisted cord, and set the rod tight against the knots I J K L. 

Now set a second rod in place below the first, seeing that 
two twists of the string are between each road and that the 
space separating them is one inch. Keep alternating butts 
and tops. At each point, that is at four places on each rod, 
make a lashing of waxed thread, holding rod and cords 
together (No. 2). I have seen beds with only two lashings, 
that is, one at each end, but four lashings is the sound and 
safe plan. 




:NoX.rh^st)ltc( iinisk. Aluh^>Uh< IxsH^d //A'ea%ir. 



When the rod-work is six feet long, it is time to taper off. 
Put in one big rod for a finish, and tie hard loops in the 



Some Indian Ways 



497 



cords at this point. Then, using shorter rods, make a 
narrower part about eighteen inches high for a head. 
Finally, cover this head with a piece of brown khaki or 
canvas which should be decorated with the band's colors 
and totem, either painted or done in bead work, or in colored 
cottons that are cut out and sewed on (Cuts Nos. 3 and 4). 




t^O. 3. YAriows hticLS 



Ne>. Wilfow 6e^ ^f/itk St^cKWoLf iot<.7n 



It is well to add also a wooden hook for one's watch (a and 
b, Cut No. 3) and a pocket for matches and money, etc., at 
night. 

The Indians often elaborated these beds to a great extent 
when in permanent camps. Each rod was selected, pel 
fectly straight, thinned at the butt end, to be uniform, and 
an extra piece added at the bed, head and foot, tc ciu! a^ 
as end-boards. That at the head was elaborately deco- 



498 



The Book of Woodcraft 



rated with symbols in beadwork. The illustration (No. 5) 
shows a beautiful beaded bed-head in my possession; not 
only the head, but the edges all around, are bound with red 
flannel. 
When in use the bed is laid with the ends of the rods 




UoS The btlcUoi heact. 



resting on two 4-inch poles, which are set firmly twenty- 
six inches apart; and the bed is staked at the corners 
through the loops to hold it in place (Cut No. 6). Cut 
No. 7 shows a fine specimen of an Arapaho bed all ready for 
use. When we can get no poles, we lay down a couple of 
boards or rods to carry the ends of the bed, and then dig the 



Some Indian Ways 



499 



ground out in the middle. By means of two tall stakes 
the head part is held upright. When packed up the bed is 
rolled. It weighs about five pounds. 

Of course, you always need as much under you as over you. 
Couched on such a natural spring mattress as the willow 
bed you sleep in perfect comfort. 



No,(o, 



A 



mmmm 

jp-yfevdii""*'"^" '• 



Irv /ihce. 





No. 7. ARAPAHO BED OF WILLOWS. 14th ANN. 
Rep. Bur. Am. Ethn. P. 963 

For those who wish to complete its sumptuousness a rush 
or grass mat may be added. (See Camp Loom.) 

After long use the willows get bent, to prevent this 
the bed should be turned over every few days. 

INDIAN PAINTS 



Paints for the body are mixed with grease or tallow from 
some animal. 



Soo The Book of Woodcraft 

Paints for ornamenting robes are mixed with water. 
(Clark: "Sign Language.") 

Paints for lodges, totem poles, etc., were made durable 
by slowly melting or mixing into the grease enough rosin to 
make it sticky. This formed their paint oil. 

Red. Before they had the white man's vermilion they 
used a certain stiff yellow clay (brick clay) which, when 
burnt, turned dull red — i. e., brick color. This they pow- 
dered and mixed with the grease oil. 

In some parts of the country there are springs strongly 
impregnated with iron. A log of wood dug out of this — or 
failing that an armful of chips long soaked in it — when 
taken out, dried and burnt yielded ashes of a beautiful 
rosy color. These worked up into a very pretty red. 

Yellow. Yellow clay or ochres are common in clay 
regions and furnish a dull yellow. Clark says that the 
flower of the prairie, goldenrod, yields a good yellow: also 
the bright yellow moss one sees on the trunks of pine trees 
in the Rockies. When dried and powdered this makes a 
sort of chrome yellow, and is also used as a dye. 

"The Sioux use bull-berries" for yellow. (Clark.) 

Blue. They had no good blue. Blue clays come near- 
est to the color. Sometimes black and white mixed were 
used. 

Black. Soot and charcoal, ground into the paint oil, 
made a good black. 

White. For white they used white clays, which are com- 
mon in some regions, or burnt shells, finely powdered. 

"Generally speaking. Black means joy: White, mourn- 
ing: Red, beauty: and an excessive use of any of these or 
other colors, excitement. " 

"When painting for war, they use many stripes and rings 
of different colors, but on returning only black-colored 
• paint is used. " 



Some Indian Ways 



501 



"After killing an enemy, the lower part of the face might 
be painted black. " (Clark.) 

Painting was universal among Indians. They did it to 
beautify themselves and also to protect the skins from the 
weather. Though we cond'^mn them for the practice, 
most of our women and a great many of our men do the 
same thing for the same reason. 





Zuni eagles 23 Am. Rep. B. A. E. 



INDIAN DYES 



The dyes used to stain porcupine quills, spruce roots, and 
other strong material, of which they made ornaments and 
utensils, were very numerous, and some of them very 
beautiful. 

Red. Soak the roots in the juice of the Squaw-berry — 
Blitum or Mis-caw-wa. Many other berries give red or 
purple. 

Black. Boil the roots, etc., with the bark, branches, and 
berries of sumac, or the bark and chips of oak and soft 
maple, with some iron in the pot. 

Yellow. A beautiful yellow is made by boiling the inner 
bark of golden or black oak. Or the root of yellowroot or 
hydrastis. In the Rocky Mountains the yellow moss 
j)£f pine trees serves. 



502 The Book of Woodcraft 

Orange. By boiling with the inner bark of alder or 
sassafras. 

Scarlet. Dye yellow first then dip in red. 

Most berries and barks yield a dye, and experiments with 
them often result in delightful discoveries. 

NAMING THE CAMP — OR KEEPING THE WINTER-COUNT 

When the return of the Grass-moon told the Indians that 
the New Year had come and that the old year had gone, the 
council debated the question: By what name shall we re- 
member this last year? All names suggested by events 
were brought in. Smallpox Year, White-buffalo Year, 
Many-scalps Year, and so on. When a decision was reached 
the Keeper of the Winter-count made a pictograph in proper 
place on the Painted Robe, and so this record was kept. 

In our tribes we select the name by which each Camp- 
out is likely to be remembered, and enter that in the Tally 
Book. 

Thus we have: Camp-nothing-but-rain, Camp-bully- 
fun, Camp-robin's-nest-on-the-teepee, etc. 

ARCHERY 

The tribe should own a Standard Target — that is, 4 feet 
across, circular, made of straw, with a thin oilcloth cover, 
marked with a 9.6 inch centre of gold (called by some of our 
tribes "The Buffalo's Eye"); outside of that a 4.8-inch 
band of red, next a similar band of blue, next of black, next 
of white. Sometimes black rings of the right size are 
made to answer. 

In scoring, the gold is 9, the red 7, the blue 5, the 
black 3, the white I. The shortest match range for the 
target is 40 yards. If it is a 3 -foot target the match range is 
reduced to 30 yards. 



Some Indian Ways 503 

A target can be made of a burlap sack about five feet 
square. This should be stuffed full of hay or straw, then 
flattened by a few quilting stitches put right through with a 
long packing needle. On this the target is painted of exact 
right size. 

Each brave should have a bow that pulls from 10 pounds 
up; about one pound for each year of his age is a safe guide 
for boys up to sixteen. He should have at least 6 arrows 
and a quiver. The arrows 25 inches long, with 3 feathers, 
cone-points of steel or iron; brass points are useless. A 
guard or bracer for the left wrist is needed, and most boys 
require a glove to protect the fingers of the right hand. 

Bows can be bought for $1 to $5 and arrows from 15 
cents to $3 each. But it is more creditable if you make 
them yourself. 

HOW TO MAKE A BOW 

Take a straight, sound piece of cedar, bodark, yew, 
sassafras, mulberry, apple tree, black locust, ironwood, ash, 
elm, hickory, or hemlock. Cut it so that it is half sap and 
half heartwood, flat on the sap wood side (or front) and 
round on the heartwood side (or back). It should be about 
an inch thick in the middle and tapered off to f inch at each 
end. Cut two notches and put on a strong linen cord, 
either a bought bow-string or one made of many twisted 
linen threads. At one end it is fast to the bow by a timber 
hitch, at the other by a hard loop. 

When strung the string should be about 5 inches from 
the bow. 

Arrows should be 25 inches long, and f of an inch thick. 
They are made of pine or ash. The Eastern Indians made 
them usually of arrow-wood or viburnum shoots. 

Each should have a conical steel ferrule for head and three 
feathers to make it fly true. The feathers are lashed on. 



504 



The Book of Woodcraft 




ARCHERY 
a. The bow strung, b. The cord fast at the lower end. c. The cord 
with loop at upper end. d. Feather ready to tie on. e. Feathers lashed 
on. £. Holding. 



jt^^ 



•"mr 




%Tra^^7^;iTlllf 



-jBS^^F^Ss 



aaumiMM : 



II I liMi.ll., u 3 



311 



SIX SAMPLE ARROWS, SHOWING DIFFERENT FEATHERS. 

^ is a far-flying steel-pointed bobtail, very pood in wind. B is another very good ar- 
row, with a horn point. This went even better than A if there were no wind. C is an 
Omaha war and deer arrow. Both heads and fiathers are lashed on with sinew. The long 
tufts of down left on the feathers are to hflp in fiiding it again, as they are snow-white and 
wave in the breeze. Th? grooves on the shaft are to make the victim bleed more freely and 
be more easily tracked. D is another Omaha arruw with a pccul-ar owner's mark of rings 
carved in the middle. £ is a bone-headed I ird shaft made by the Indians of the Macken- 
zie River. /^ is a war arrow made by Geronimo, the famous Apache chief. Its shaft is 
three joints of a straight cane. The tip is of hard wood, and on that is a fine quartz point: 
all being lashed together with sinew. 



Some Indian Ways 505 

HOLDING AND DRAWING 

It is very important to begin shooting in correct form and 
never change from that if you wish to become a good shot. 

Grasp the bow in the left hand. Put the arrow on the 
string with the right. Hook the first three fingers on the 
string one above, two below the arrow. The little finger 
and thumb do nothing, (f in upper cut, p. 504). 

Stand perfectly upright, left side toward the target, the 
heels 12 inches apart and in exact line from the target. 
Hold the bow upright and the arrow against the left side of 
it, resting on the hand. Draw the cord till the head of the 
arrow touches the bow and the top of your thumb rests on 
the corner of your mouth. You must sight along the arrow 
for direction, but guess for elevation. Hold it one second. 

Release the arrow by straightening your fingers and at 
the same time turn your hand back up, but keep the thumb 
tip at your mouth corner. Do not move the left hand a 
hair's-breadth till the arrow has struck. 

Begin practising at very short range and slowly increase 
up to the standard, forty yards. 

Unstring the bow when not in use. 

THE WARBOW OF THE PENOBSCOTS 

This warbow (Tong-bi) is as shown to me by Big Thun- 
der, the Penobscot Chief, at Boston Sportsman's Show, 
December 12, 1900. He was then seventy-seven years of 
age, perfectly straight, and six feet four inches in height. 

He said that the bow had been in his tribe for over two 
hundred years; fifty-five years ago it was put in his charge 
by his uncle, the late Chief John Nepta. 

It is made of "hornbeam" in two pieces, loosely joined, 
with an auxiliary piece in front (AA), to which are attached 



5o6 



The Book of Woodcraft 



two long thongs of caribou rawhide. This extra piece is 
bound to the arms of the main bow by a somewhat loose 
rawhide wrapping. 

The string is three strips of rawhide, two of them loosely 
twisted together, the third tightly wrapped around both. 



'/,» 




Penobscot warbow. 



Omaha bow, bowcase and quiver. 



The bow is 5 feet 6| inches long, and pulls not more than 
25 pounds, perhaps only 20. It seemed to me a very slow 
bow. 

Yet the Chief told me it had killed many men and ani- 
mals. He had recently shot a two-year-old moose with It 




Some Indian Ways 507 

The moose, he said, always lies down on a wound to get 
it next the earth, but thereby drives the arrow home. 

Caribou rawhide, he claims, gets tighter when wet; 
and hornbeam practically 
never decays or loses its 
power with age. 

The arrow he showed 
me was without feathers 
and had a stone head. 
The notch was very slight, Eu 

showing that the pinch ,^^ Drawn from llte. 

grip was necessary. It jl ^'f ■De"c"'^r^^ BoItM^ 

was X2 inches long, but the / This manner he said was 

, ,1 // general among his people 

PenobSCOtS made them up '/ formerly but of late they 

'■ use the new (secondary) style. 

to 34 and 36 mches, usu- 
ally with feathers. The grip by which he pulled was the 
Mongolian, as in the sketch. 

That, he said, used to be the only one in use among his 
tribe, but recently they had used the grip known as the 
Secondary. 

SCALPS 

In some tribes each brave wears a long tuft of black horse- 
hair that answers as his scalp. The skin of this should be 
about one and a half inches across; it is furnished with a 
cord loop; the hair is as long as possible. This scalp is 
presented to the brave on entering the tribe. After he has 
promised obedience and allegiance and signed the roll the 
medicine man gives it to him, saying: 

"This is your scalp. Treasure this as your honor. You 
may lose it without absolute disgrace, but not without some 
humiliation. " 

He can lose it only in an important competition, approved 
by the council, in which he stakes his scalp against that of 



So8 The Book of Woodcraft 

some other brave. If he loses, he surrenders his tuft to the 
winner and goes tuftless — that is, he is dead until the coun- 
cil thinks proper to revive him by giving him a new scalp 
But he never gets back the old one, which remains the 
property of the winner for a teepee or other decoration 

A dead brave cannot vote or sit in council or take part 
in the competitions. 

INDIAN WORK 

For all kinds of genuine Indian work, to order if need 
be, send to Mohonk Lodge, Colony, Oklahoma. 



XV* Campflre Stories or Glimpses 
of Indian Character 

The Teachings of Winnemucca 

Qiief of the Piutes 

About J 800 

WINNEMUCCA was one of the famous old Chiefs 
who stood for valor, goodness, and courtesy; 
and was in himself a noble example of all his 
own doctrines. 

Gen. O. O. Howard, who knew his people well, has 
recorded the teachings of Winnemucca. He ceaselessly- 
exhorted his people: 

"To love peace and make constant effort to keep it; 
always to be kind, one to another; always to tell the 
truth; and never to take for one's self what belonged to 
another; to treat old people with tender regard; to care 
for and help the helpless; to be affectionate in families, 
and show real respect to women, particularly to mothers." 
("Famous Indian Chiefs I Have Known," p. 208-9, O* C). 
Howard, U. S. A., Century Co., N. Y. 1908.) 

THE TEACHINGS OF WABASHA I. 

In the day of his strength no man is fat. Fat is good in a 
beast, but in a man it is disease and comes only of an evil life. 

No man will eat three times each sun if he would keep 
his body strong and his mind unclouded. 

509 



Sio The Book of Woodcraft 

Bathe every sun in cold water and one sun in seven enter 
the sweat lodge. 

If you would purify your heart and so see clearer the 
way of the Great Spirit, touch no food for two days or more, 
according to your strength. For thereby your spirit hath 
mastery over the body and the body is purged. 

Touch not the poisonous jSrewater that makes wise 
men turn fools. Neither touch food nor taste drink that 
robs the body of its power or the spirit. 

Guard your tongue in youth, and in age you may 
mature a thought that will be of service to your people. 

Praise God when you rise, when you bathe, when you 
eat, when you meet your friends and for all good happen- 
ings. And if so be you see no cause for praise the fault is 
in yourself. 

A proven Minisino is at all times clean, courteous and 
master of himself. 

The vnse man will not hurt his mind for the passing 
pleasure of the body. 

If any man be given over to sex appetite he is harboring 
a rattlesnake, whose sting is rottenness and sure death. 

By prayer and fasting and fixed purpose you can rule 
your own spirit, and so have power over all those about you. 

When your time comes to die, sing your death song and 
die pleasantly, not Hke the white men whose hearts are 
ever filled with the fear of death, so when their time comes, 
they weep and wail and pray for a little more time so they 
may live their lives over again in a different manner. 

THE LESSONS OF LONE-CHIEF, SKUR-AR-ALE-SHAR, 
GIVEN HIM BY HIS WIDOWED MOTHER 

When you get to be a man remember that it is ambition that 
makes the man. 



Campfire Stories of Indian Character 511 

If you go on the warpath do not turn around when you have 
gone part way, but go on as far as you were going; then come 
back. 

If I should live to see you become a man I want you to be- 
come a great man. I want you to think about the hard times 
we have been through. 

Take pity on people who are poor, because we have been poor, 
and people have taken pity on us. 

If I live to see you a man, and to go off on the warpath, I 
would not cry if I were to hear that you had been killed in 
battle. That is what makes a man, to fight and to be brave. 

Love your friend and never desert him. If you see him sur- 
rounded by the enemy do not run away; go to him, and if you 
cannot save him, be killed together, and let your bones lie side 
by side. — ("Pawnee Hero Stories," by G. B. Grinnell, pp. 
46-47.) 

THE TEACHINGS OF TSHUT-CHE-NAU 
CHIEF OF THE KANSAS, ABOUT 1800 

On the lowest plane of all the great Indian teachers, 
perhaps, was Tshut-che-nau, Chief of the Kansas Indians. 
In 1800 he was a very old man, so probably his epoch was 
1750 to 1800. 

This Hammurabi of his people used to lecture the young 
Indians — as part of their training — and J. D. Hunter, 
the white boy, who was adopted into the tribe and sat at 
the old man's feet, has thus recorded principles there laid 
down: 

When you become men be brave and cunning in war, and 
defend your hunting grounds against all encroachments. 

Never suffer your squaws or little ones to want. 

Protect the squaws and strangers from insult. 

On no account betray your friend. 

Resent insults. 

Revenge yourself on your enemies. 

Drink not the poisonous strong water of the white people; it 
is sent by the Bad Spirit to destroy the Indians. 

Fear not death; none but cowards fear to die. ' 



512 The Book of Woodcraft 

Obey and venerate the old people, particularly your parents. 

Fear and propitiate the Bad Spirit, that he may do you no 
harm. 

Love and adore the Good Spirit, who made us all, who sup- 
plies our hunting grounds, and keeps us alive. — ("Captivity 
Among the Indians," 1798-1816; John D. Hunter, p. 21.) 

COURAGE OR THE TRAINED SCOUT 

"With the Indian courage is absolute self-control. The 
truly brave man, we contend, yields neither to fear nor 
anger, desire nor agony. He is at all times master of 
himself. His courage rises to the heights of chivalry, 
patriotism, and real heroism. 

"'Let neither cold, hunger, nor pain, nor the fear of them, 
neither the bristling teeth of danger nor the very jaws of death 
itself, prevent you from doing a good deed,' said an old chief 
to a Scout who was about to seek the buffalo in midwinter for 
the relief of a starving people." (" Soul of the Indian," p. 115; 
by Ohiyesa.) 

AN INDIAN PRAYER 

(Supplied by Miss Natalie Curtis) 

Powers that be, make me sufficient to my own occasions. 

Give to me to mind my own business at all times and to 
lose no good opportunity for holding my tongue. 

When it is appointed for me to suffer let me take example 
from the dear well-bred beasts and go away in solitude to 
bear my suffering by myself. 

Help me to win, if win I may, but — and this especially, 
O Powers — if I may not win, make me a good loser. 

GENESIS (oMAHA) 

From the ritual of the Omaha Pebble Society 
(Fletcher — LaFlesche, Eth. Ann. 27; p. 570) 

"At the beginning all things were in the mind of Wa- 



Campfire Stories of Indian Qiaracter 513 

konda. All creatures, including man, were spirits. They 
moved about in space between the earth and the stars 
(the heavens). They were seeking a place where they 
could come into a bodily existence. They ascended to 
the sun, but the sun was not fitted for their abode They 
moved on to the moon and found that it also was not good 
for their home. Then they descended to the earth. They 
saw it was covered with water. They floated through the 
air to the north, the east, the south, and the west, and 
found no dry land. They were sorely grieved. Suddenly 
from the midst of the water uprose a great rock. It burst 
into flames and the waters floated into the air in clouds. 
Dry land appeared; the grasses and the trees grew. The 
hosts of spirits descended and became flesh and blood. 
They fed on the seeds of the grasses and the fruits of the 
trees, and the land vibrated with their expressions of joy 
and gratitude to Wakonda, the maker of all things." 

THE quiche's myth OF CREATION 

This is the first word and the first speech: There were 
neither men nor brutes, neither birds, fish nor crabs, stick nor 
stone, valley nor mountain, stubble nor forest, nothing but the 
sky. 

The face of the land was hidden; there was naught but the 
silent sea and the sky. 

There was nothing joined, nor any sound, nor thing that 
stirred; neither any to do evil, nor to rumble in the heavens, 
nor a walker on foot; only the silent waters, only the pacified 
ocean, only it in its calm. 

Nothing was, but stillness and rest and darlaiess and the night. 

Nothing but the Maker and Moulder, the Hurler, the Bird 
Serpent. 

In the waters, in a limpid twilight, covered with green feathers, 
slept the mothers and the fathers. 

And over all passed Hurakan, the night-wind, the black 
rushing Raven, and cried with rumbling croak. "Earth.' 



SI4 The Book of Woodcraft 

Earth 1" and straightway the solid land was there. — (Fronj 
Ximenes.) 

CLEAN FATHERHOOD 

"This is the sum of everything that is noble and honor- 
able — Clean Fatherhood," the words of Chief Capilano 
of the Squamish. (Pauline Johnson's "Legends of Van- 
couver," 191 2, p 10.) 

OMAHA PROVERBS 

"Stolen food never satisfies hunger." 

"A poor man is a hard rider." 

"All persons dislike a borrower." 

"No one mourns the thriftless." 

"The path of the lazy leads to disgrace." 

"A man must make his own arrows." 

"A handsome face does not make a good husband." 

(Fletcher — La Flesche, Eth. Ann. 27 p. 604) 

THE MEDICINE MAN AND HIS WAYS 

During the later Indian days the army surgeons came 
into close contact and rivalry with the Indian, and to the 
amazement of all whites, it frequently happened that the 
Indian doctor undertook and cured cases which the white 
doctors had pronounced hopeless. These were of all kinds, 
broken limbs, rheumatism, consumption, and obscure 
maladies (see "Medicine Man" in Clark's "Indian Sign 
Language"). 

This led to an investigation and a report on the ways 
of the medicine man. These were shown to be their chief 
pecuUar methods: 

ist: They took the patient home, giving him camp life 
with the daily sun-bath, and with pure air night and day. 



Campfire Stories of Indian Giaracter 515 

2d: They gave him a periodic Turkish bath with pur- 
gatives. 

3d: They gave him regular massage. 

4th: They worked on his faith; they sang to him; they 
convinced him that great things were doing on his behalf. 
They did all in their power to set his mind at ease. 

Besides which they had some knowledge of curative 
herbs and of dieting. 

All of these have now a place among our own medical 
methods, yet we scoffed at them when offered to us by the 
Indians. They had to reach us from the East before we 
found them acceptable. 

Of course there was a measure of quackery and fraud 
in many of the medicine men, but it is just possible that 
medical humbug was not entirely confined to the doctors 
of the Red Race. 

THE INDIAN SILENCE 

The first American mingled with his pride a singular humility. 
Spiritual arrogance was foreign to his nature and teaching. He 
never claimed that the power of articulate speech was proof of 
superiority over the dumb creation; on the other hand, it is to 
him a perilous gift. He believes profoundly in silence — the 
sign of a perfect equilibrium. Silence is the absolute poise or 
balance of body, mind, and spirit. The man v/ho preserves his 
selfhood, ever calm and unshaken by the storms of existence — 
not a leaf, as it were, astir on the tree; not a ripple upon the 
surface of shining pool — his, in the mind of the unlettered 
sage, is the ideal attitude and conduct of life. 

If you ask him, "What is silence?" he will answer, "It is the 
Great Mystery! The holy silence is His voice!" If you ask, 
"What are the fruits of silence?" he will say, "They are self- 
control, true courage or endurance, patience, dignity, and 
reverence. Silence is the cornerstone of character." 

"Guard your tongue in youth," said the old Chief Wabasha, 
"and in age you may mature a thought that will be of service 
to your people] " — ('* The Soul of the Indian," by Ohiyesa, pp. 
8Q-90.) 



Si6 The Book of Woodcraft 

THE INDIAN BABES IN THE WOODS 
(By permission of Messers. Fleming H. Revell Company, N. Y.) 

The charming story "Two Wilderness Voyagers," by 
F. W. Calkins, gives a true picture of the ways and powers 
of Indian children. Two little Sioux, a boy and a girl, 
Etapa and Zintkala, were stolen from their people and 
carried off into the land of the Ojibwa. They escaped 
and, though but eleven or twelve years old, wandered alone 
in the woods for months and eventually reached their own 
people on the plains. 

Their ways and the thoughts of their kind toward the 
wonders of nature are admirably illustrated in the scene 
before Grandfather Rock: 

In one of these short excursions the boy came upon a vener- 
able gray boulder which stood as high as the surrounding trees 
and was many steps in circumference at its base. Except where 
the moose had eaten them off, this towering rock was thickly 
grown with lichens which gave it a hoary appearance of great 
age. 

Etapa stood for some minutes, his eyes cast upward, venerat- 
ing this aged and eternally enduring one which knows not time, 
seasons, nor change. Then the boy went softly back to Zint- 
kala. "Come," he said, "I have found Grandfather Inyan — 
the very aged one. Let us smoke and pray to him! " 

So they went together softly among the sand hillocks, until 
they confronted Grandfather Inyan. While Etapa prepared his 
pipe and willow bark for smoking, Zintkala stood — as a small 
devotee before a shrine — looking devoutly up at the everlast- 
ing one, the vast sentinel and guide, set so mysteriously among 
the trees. 

"It is taku-wakan" (something wonderful), she said. While 
Etapa smoked, offering incense to the rock, sky and trees, she 
prayed thus: 

"Behold us small ones, O Grandfather Inyan. You are 
doubtless very old and wise, therefore you, O Grandfather 



Campfire Stories of Indian Character 517 

Inyan, and ye trees, assist us greatly that we may find our way 
homeward. 

Fire is sacred to Inyan; therefore, under the shadow of the 
great rock they built one of dry sticks and gathered a heap of 
fagots to keep the blaze going until far into the night. Then 
alternately they said, "We will make a feast and dance to 
Grandfather Inyan, and so he shall help us." 

"After they had eaten they combed their hair, greasing it with 
pieces of goose fat which Zintkala had saved, and then braided 
and tied their tresses becomingly. 

After a reasonable time, by the light of the fire they had built 
to him, they gave a sacred dance to Grandfather Inyan and his 
protecting pines. Upon a little plat of level ground, facing a 
broad scrap of the rock, and embowered in dark-topped ever- 
greens, these little brown children danced. 

The girl, with close drawn-blanket, with rapt face and serious 
air, performed her part in measured, dainty movements, danc- 
ing with her toes turned inward. 

The boy, with less grace, but no less reverent face, sprang 
lightly from foot to foot, chanting low ejaculations of prayer. 

Had the rock and the trees, sheltering their small circle of 
light and their brown swaying figures, possessed the ears, hearts 
and powers attributed to them, they must have moved even 
their roots to respond to the appeals for pity which these lost 
and revering waifs addressed to them. 

When they had danced until they were weary they stretched 
themselves, tightly rolled in their blankets, upon the sands, and 
with renewed trust in the future, fell asleep." — (Pp. 112-114.) 



THE STORY OF NO-HEART 

(By permission of the Author) 

(From "My Life as an Indian," by J. W. Schultz) 

This story of No-Heart gives a realistic and kindly pic- 
ture of life in an Indian village. The heroine, a young 
girl nearing womanhood, had been caught with her family 
in a terrible thunderstorm. When it was over all were 



5i8 The Book of Woodcraft 

dead but herself. In the village she had no other kins- 
folk; thus she was left alone in the world: 

Kind friends buried the dead, and the many different ones 
asked the girl to come and live with them; but she refused them 
all. "You must go and live with some one," said the chief. 
"No one ever heard of a young woman living by herself. You 
cannot live alone. Where would you procure your food? And 
think of what people would say, shoiUd you do so; you would 
soon have a bad name." 

"If people speak ill of me, I cannot help it," said the girl. 
"They will live to take back their bad words. I have decided 
to do this, and I will find a way to keep from starving." 

So this girl lived on alone in the lodge her parents had built, 
and with no company save her dogs. The women of the camp 
frequently visited her and gave her meat and other food, but no 
man, either young or old, ever went in and sat by her fire. One 
or two had attempted it, but only once, for she had told them 
plainly that she did not wish the society of any man. So the 
youths gazed at her from afar, and prayed the gods to soften her 
heart. She was a handsome young woman, a hard and cease- 
less toiler; no wonder that the men fell in love with her, and no 
wonder that they named her No-Heart. 

One young m.an, Long Elk, son of the great chief, loved the 
lone girl so much that he was nearly crazy with the pain and 
longing for her. He had never spoken to her, well knowing 
that her answer would be that which she had given to others. 
But he could not help going about, day after day, where she 
could always see him. If she worked in her little bean and corn 
patch he sat on the edge of the river-bank nearby. If she went 
to the timber for wood, he strolled out in that direction, often 
meeting her on the trail, but she always passed him with eyes 
cast down, as if she had not seen him. Often, in the night, when 
all the camp was fast asleep. Long Elk would steal out of his 
father's lodge, pick up a water skin, and filling it again and 
again at the river, would water every row in No-Heart's garden. 
At the risk of his life he would go out alone on the plains where 
the Sioux were always prowling, and hunt. In the morning 
when No-Heart awoke and went out, she would find hanging 
in the dark entrance way, choice portions of meat, the skin of 9 



Campfire Stories of Indian Character 519 

buffalo or the deer kind. The people talked about this, wonder= 
ing who did it all. If the girl knew she gave no sign of it, 
always passing the young man as if she did not know there was 
such a person on earth. A few low and evil ones themselves 
hinted wickedly that the unknown protector was well paid for 
his troubles. But they were always rebuked, for the girl had 
many friends who believed that she was all good. 

In the third summer of the girl's lone living, the Mandans 
and Arickarees quarreled, and then trouble began, parties con- 
stantly starting out to steal each other's horses, and to kill and 
scalp all whom they could find hunting or traveling about be- 
yond protection of the villages. This was a very sad condition 
for the people. The two tribes had long been friends; Mandan 
men had married Arickaree women, and many Arickaree men 
had Mandan wives. It was dreadful to see the scalps of per- 
haps one's own relatives brought into camp. But what could 
the women do? They had no voice in the councils, and were 
afraid to say what they thought. Not so No-Heart. Every 
day she went about in the camp, talking loudly, so that the men 
must hear, scolding them and their wickedness; pointing out 
the truth, that by killing each other the two tribes would be- 
come so weak that they would soon be unable to withstand their 
common enemy, the Sioux. Yes, No-Heart would even walk 
right up to a chief and scold him, and he would be obliged to 
turn silently away, for he could not argue with a woman, nor 
could he force this one to close her mouth; she was the ruler of 
her own person. 

One night a large number of Arickarees succeeded in making 
an opening in the village stockade and, passing through, they 
began to lead out the horses. Some one soon discovered them, 
however, and gave the alarm, and a big fight took place, the 
Mandans driving the enemy out on the plain and down into 
the timber below. Some men on both sides were killed; there 
was both mourning and rejoicing in the village. 

The Arickarees retreated to their village. Toward evening 
No-Heart went down into the timber for fuel, and in a thick 
clump of willows she found one of the enemy, a young man 
badly wounded. An arrow had pierced his groin, and the 
loss of blood had been great. He was so weak that he could 
scarcely speak or move. No-Heart stuck many willow twigs 
in the ground about him, the more securely to conceal him. 



S20 The Book of Woodcraft 

"Do not fear," she said to him, "I will bring you food and 
drink." 

She hurried back to her lodge and got some dried meat and a 
skin of water, put them under her robe, and returned co the 
wounded one. He drank much, and ate of the food. No- 
Heart washed and bound the wound. Then she again left him, 
telling him to lie quiet, that in the night she would return and 
take him to her home, where she would care for him until he 
got well. In her lodge she fixed a place for him, screening one 
of the bed places with a large cow skin; she also partly covered 
the smoke hole and hung a skin across the entrance, so that the 
interior of the lodge had but little light. The women who 
sometimes visited her would never suspect that any one was 
concealed, and especially an enemy in a lodge where for three 
summers no man had entered. 

It was a very dark night. Down in the timber there was no 
light at all. No-Heart was obliged to extend her arms as she 
walked, to keep from running against the trees, but she knew 
the place so well that she had little trouble in finding the thicket, 
and the one she had come to aid. "Arise," she said in a low 
voice. "Arise, and follow me." 

The young man attempted to get up, but fell back heavily 
upon the ground. "I cannot stand." he said; "my legs have 
no strength." 

Then No-Heart cried out: "You cannot walk! I had not 
thought but that you could walk. What shall I do? What 
shall I do?" 

"You will let me carry him for you," said some one standing 
close behind her. " I will carry him wherever you lead." 

No Heart turned with a little cry of surprise. She c ^uld not 
see the speaker's face in the darkness, only his dim form; but 
she knew the voice. She was not afraid. "Lift him then," 
she said, "and follow me." 

She herself raised the wounded one up and placed him on 
the newcomer's back, and then led the way out of the timber, 
across the plain, through the stockade, in which she had loosened 
a post, and then on to her lodge. No one was about, and they 
were not discovered. Within a fire was burning, but there was 
no need of the light to show the girl who had helped her. He 
was Long Elk. "We will put him here," she said, lifting the 
skin in front of the couch she had prepared, and they laid the 



Campfire Stories of Indian Qiaracter 521 

tick man carefully down upon it. Then Long Elk stood for a 
little, looking at the girl, but she remained silent and would not 
look at him. "I will go now," he said, "but each night I will 
come with meat for you and your lover." 

Still the girl did not speak, and he went away. But as soon 
as he had gone No-Heart sat down and cried. The sick man 
raised up a little and asked, " What troubles you? Why are you 
crying?" 

" Did you not hear? " she replied. " He said that you are my 
lover." 

"I know you," said the man. "They call you No-Heart, 
but they lie. You have a heart; I wish it were for me." 

"Don't!" the girl cried. "Don't say that again! I will 
take care of you, feed you. As your mother is to you, so will 
I be." 

Now, when night came again, No-Heart went often out in the 
passageway, staying there longer and longer each time, return- 
ing only to give the sick man water or a little food. At last, 
as she was sitting out there in the dark. Long Elk came, and, 
feeling for the right place, hung up a piece of meat beyond 
the reach of the dogs. " Come in," she said to him. " Come in 
and talk with the wounded one." 

After that Long Elk sat with the Arickaree every night for a 
time, and they talked of the things which interest men. While 
he was in the lodge No-Heart never spoke, except to say, "Eat 
it," when she placed food before them. Day after day the 
wounded one grew stronger. One night, after Long Elk had 
gone, he said, "I am able to travel; to-morrow night I will start 
homeward. I want to know why you have taken pity on me; 
why you saved me from death? " 

"Listen, then," said the girl. "It was because war is bad; 
because I pitied you. Many women here, and many more in 
your village, are crying because they have lost the ones they 
loved in this quarrel. Of them all, I alone have talked, begging 
the chiefs to make peace with you. All the other women were 
glad of my words, but they are afraid and do not dare speak for 
themselves. I talked and feared not ; because no one could bid 
me stop. I have helped you, now do you help me; help your 
women; help us all. When you get home tell what was done 
for you here, and talk hard for peace." 

"So I will," the Arickaree told her. "When they learn all 



522 The Book of Woodcraft 

that you have done for me, the chiefs will listen. I am sure 
they will be glad to stop this war." 

The next night, when Long Elk entered the lodge, he found 
the man sitting up. By his side lay his weapons and a little 
sack of food. "I was waiting for you," he said. "I am well 
now and wish to start for home to-night. Will you take me out 
beyond the stockade? If any speak you can answer them and 
they will not suspect that their enemy passes by." 

"I will go with you, of course," Long Elk told him. Where- 
upon he arose, slung on his bow and quiver, the sack of food, 
and lifted his shield. No-Heart sat quietly on the opposite 
side of the lodge, looking straight at the fire. Long Elk turned 
to her: "And you? " he asked. "Are you also ready? " 

She did not answer, but covered her face with her robe. 

"I go alone," said the Arickaree. "Let us start." 

They went out, through the village, through the stockade, 
and across the bottom to the timber, where they stopped. 
"You have come far enough," the Arickaree said; "1 will go 
on alone from here. You have been good to me. I shall not 
forget it. When I arrive home, I shall talk much for peace be- 
tween our tribes. I hope we may soon meet again in friendship." 

"Wait," said the Long Elk, as he turned to go, "I want to 
ask you something: Why do you not take No-Heart with 
you?" 

"I would if she were willing," he answered, "but she is not 
for me. I tell you more truly this. She has been a mother to 
me; no more, no less. And you," he continued, " have you ever 
asked her to be your woman? No? Then go now, right now, 
and do so." 

"It would be useless," said Long Elk sadly. "Many have 
asked her, and she has always turned them away." 

" I have seen much while I lay sick in her lodge," the Arickaree 
continued. "I have seen her gaze at you as you sat talking to 
me, and her eyes were beautiful then. And I have seen her 
become restless and go out and in, out and in, when you were 
late. When a woman does that it means that she loves you. 
Go and ask her." 

They parted; Long Elk returned to the village. "It could 
not be," he thought, "that the young man was right. No, it 
could not be." Had he not kept near her these many winters 
and summers? and never once had she looked at him, or smiled. 



Campfire Stories of Indian Qiaracter 523 

Thinking thus, he wandered on, and on, and found himself 
standing by the entrance to her lodge. Within he heard, 
faintly, some one crying. He could not be sure that was it, the 
sound of it was so low. He stepped noiselessly in and carefully 
drew aside the door skin. No-Heart was sitting where he had 
last seen her, sitting before the dying fire, robe over her head, 
and she was crying. He stole past the doorway and sat down 
beside her, quite close, but he dared not touch her. "Good- 
heart," he said, "Big-heart, don't cry." 

But she only cried harder when she heard his words, and he 
was much troubled, not knowing what to do. After a little, he 
moved closer and put his arm around her; she did not draw 
away, so then he drew the robe away from her face. "Tell me," 
he said, " why you are crying? " 

"Because I am so lonely." 

"Ah! You do love him then. Perhaps it is not too late; I 
may be able to overtake him. Shall I go and call him back to 
you?" 

"What do you mean?" cried No-Heart, staring at him. 
"Who are you talking about?" 

"He who has just left: the Arickaree," Long Elk answered. 
But now he had edged up still closer, and his arm was tighter 
around her, and she leaned heavily against him. 

"Was there ever such a blind one?" she said. "Yes, I will 
let you know my heart; I will not be ashamed, not afraid to say 
it. I was crying because I thought you would not return. All 
these summers and winters I have been waiting, hoping that 
you would love me, and you never spoke." 

"How could I?" he asked. "You never looked at me; you 
made no sign." 

" It was your place to speak," she said. " Even yet you have 
not done so." 

" I do now, then. Will you take me for your man? " 

She put her arms around his neck and kissed him, and that 
was answer enough. 

In' the morning, like any other married man, Long Elk went 
out and stood by the entrance to the lodge which was now his, 
and shouted feast invitations to his father and friends. They 
all came, and all were pleased that he had got such a good 
woman. Some made jokes about newly married ones, which 
made the young woman cover her face with her robe. Yet she 



S24 The Book of Woodcraft 

was so happy that she would soon throw it back and lavigh with 
the others. 

In a few days came a party from the Arickarees, and the 
wounded young man was one of them, asking for peace. The 
story was told then, how No-Heart had taken in the young man 
and brought him to life again, and when they heard it many 
women prayed the gods to be good to her and give her and her 
man long life. Peace between the two tribes was then declared, 
and there was much rejoicing. — ("My Life as an Indian"; 
Schultz; "The Story of No-Heart," pp. 230-238.) 

TECUMSEH 

Of all the figures in the light of Indian history, that of 
Tecumseh, or Tecum tha the "Leaping Panther," the war 
chief of the Shawnees, stands out perhaps highest and best 
as the ideal, noble Redman. 

His father was chief of the tribe. Tecumseh was born in 
1768 at Piqua Indian Village, near the site of Springfield, 
Ohio. Of all the Indians, the Shawnees had been most 
energetic and farseeing in their opposition to the encroach- 
ments of the whites. But the flood of invasion was too 
strong for them. The old chief fell, battling for home and 
people, at Point Pleasant, in 1774. His eldest son followed 
the father's footsteps, and the second met death in a hope- 
less fight with Wayne in 1794, leaving young Tecumseh 
war chief of his tribe. At once he became a national figure. 
He devoted his whole life and strength to the task of saving 
his people from the invaders, and to that end resolved that 
first he must effect a national federation of the Redmen. 
Too often tribe had been pitted against tribe for the 
white men's advantage. In union alone he saw the way 
of salvation and to this end he set about an active cam- 
paign among the tribes of the Mississippi Valley. 

His was no mean spirit of personal revenge; his mind was too 
noble for that. He hated the whites as the destroyers of his 



Campfire Stories of Indian Character 525 

race, but prisoners and the defenceless knew well that they 
coiild rely on his honor and humanity and were safe under his 
protection. When only a boy — for his military career began 
in childhood — he had witnessed the burning of a prisoner, and 
the spectacle was so abhorrent to his feelings that by an earnest 
and eloquent harangue he induced the party to give up the 
practice forever. In later years his name was accepted by 
helpless women and children as a guaranty of protection even 
in the midst of hostile Indians. He was of commanding figure, 
nearly six feet in height and compactly built; of dignified 
bearing and piercing eye, before whose lightning even a British 
general quailed. His was the fiery eloquence of a Clay and the 
clear-cut logic of a Webster. Abstemious in habit, charitable in 
thought and action, he was brave as a lion, but humane and 
generous withal — in a word, an aboriginal American knight- 
errant, whose life was given to his people. — (14 Ann. Rep. 
Ethn. p., 681.) 

During the four years 1807 to 181 1 he went from tribe 
to tribe urging with all his splendid powers the need for in- 
stant and united resistance. 

His younger brother, Tenskwatawa the Prophet, was 
with him and helped in his way by preaching the regener- 
ated doctrine of the Indian life. The movement was 
gaining force. But all Tecumseh's well-laid plans were frus- 
trated by the premature battle of Tippecanoe, November 
7, 1811. In this his brother, the Prophet, was defeated 
and every prospect of an Indian federation ended for the 
time. 

The War of 18 12 gave Tecumseh a chance to fight the 
hated Americans. As a British general he won many 
battles for his allies, but was killed leading his warriors 
at Moravian town, near Chatham, Ontario, on October 5, 
18 13. His personal prowess, his farseeing statesmanship, 
iiis noble eloquence, and lofty character have given him 
a place on the very highest plane among patriots and 
mart>TS. 



S26 The Book of Woodcraft 

U ever the great Hiawatha was reincarnated it must 
have been in the form of Tecumseh. Like Hiawatha, he 
devoted his whole life to the service of his people on the 
most heroic lines. Like Hiawatha, he planned a national 
federation of all Redman that should abolish war among 
themselves and present asolid front to the foreign invader. 
" America for the Americans" was his cry, and all his life 
and strength were devoted to the realization of his dream. 
VaHant as Pontiac, wise as Metacomet, magnificent as 
Powhatan, kind and gentle as the young Winona, he was a 
farther-seeing statesman than they ever had had before, 
and above all was the first leading Redman to put an end 
to the custom for which they chiefly are blamed, the tor- 
turing of prisoners. His people were always kind to their 
own; his great soul made him kind to all the world. He 
fought his people's battles to the end, and when he knew 
the cause was lost he laid aside his British uniform, 
girded himself in his Indian war-chief dress for the final 
scene, bade good-bye to his men and went forth, like King 
Saul on Mt. Gilboa's fatal field, to fight and fighting die. 
And the Star of his race had set. 

Measured by any scale, judged by any facts, there can 
be but one verdict : He was a great man, an Indian 
without guile, a mighty soldier and statesman, loved and 
revered by all who knew him. More than a Red noble- 
man, he was acclaimed by all his kin who knew his life 
as in very truth a Son of God. 

KANAKUK, THE KICKAPOO PROPHET 

"My father," he pleaded with President Monroe, "the 
Great Spirit holds all the world in his hands. I pray to 
him that we may not be removed from our lands. . . . 
Take pity on us and let us remain where we are." 



Campfire Storfes of Indian Qiaracter 5^7 

Such was the petition of Kanakuk, peace prophet and 
leader in 1819, when the Kickapoos were ordered to leave 
the fertile com lands of their fathers in Illinois and move 
out into the rugged hills of Missouri, among their tradi- 
tional enemies, the Osages. 

The effect of the petition was much the same as that 
which Naboth sent unto Ahab when that "president" of 
God's people coveted Naboth 's heritage. 

And what had they to charge against Kanakuk or his 
people? Their claim to the land was unquestioned. Were 
they objectionable or dangerous as neighbors? Surely not. 
No one pretended it. The doctrine Kanakuk taught his 
kindly people was a close parallel of the Ten Command- 
ments, with the added clauses of non-resistance to violence, 
and of abstinence from drinking, gambling, and horse- 
racing. 

Catlin, who visited the Prophet in his new home in 1831, 
and erronoeusly supposed the Kickapoo got these teachings 
from the Bible and the Christian missionaries, says (p. 697) : 



I was singularly struck with the noble efforts of this champion 
of the mere remnant of a poisoned race, so strenuously laboring 
to rescue the remainder of his people from the deadly bane that 
has been brought amongst them by enlightened Christians. 
How far the efforts of this zealous man have succeeded in Chris- 
tianizing, I cannot tell ; but it is quite certain that his exemplary 
and constant endeavors have completely abolished the practice 
of drinking whiskey in his tribe, which alone is a very praise- 
worthy achievement, and the first and indispensable step toward 
all other improvements. I was some time amongst those 
people, and was exceedingly pleased and surprised also to wit- 
ness their sobriety and their peaceable conduct, not having seen 
an instance of drunkenness, or seen or heard of any use of spiritu- 
ous liquors whilst I was among them. — (Catlin, Vol. IT, p.98.) 

In 1883 there was a great renewal of his teaching among his 
people, and their kin in the Indian Territory. Their ritual con- 



528 The Book of Woodcraft 

sisted chiefly of a ceremonial dance. The doctrine taught the 
same code as the Ten Commandments, but especially forbade 
drinking, gambling and horse-racing. — (14 Ann. Rep. B. A. E., 
p. 706.) 

In 1885 the local Indian agent, Patrick, wrote in a curi- 
ously superior vein of this ancient faith revived. 

These Indians are chaste, cleanly, and industrious, and would 
be a valuable acquisition to the Prairie band if it were not for 
their intense devotion to a religious dance started among the 
northern Indians some years since. This dance was introduced 
to the Prairie band about two years ago by the Absentee Pot- 
tawatomies and Winnebagoes, and has spread throughout the 
tribes in the agency. They seem to have adopted the religion 
as a means of expressing their belief in the justice and mercy of 
the Great Spirit and of their devotion to him, and are so earnest 
in their convictions as to its affording them eternal happiness 
that I have thought it impolitic, so far, to interfere with it any 
further than to advise as few meetings as possible and to dis- 
countenance it in my intercourse with the individuals practising 
the religion. It is not an unmixed evil, as, under its teaching, 
drunkenness and gambling have been reduced 75 per cent., and 
a departure from virtue on the part of its members meets with 
the severest condemnation. As some tenets of revealed re- 
ligion are embraced in its doctrines, I do not consider it a back- 
ward step for the Indians who have not heretofore professed 
belief in any Christian religion, and believe its worst features are 
summed up in the loss of time it occasions, and the fanatical 
train of thought involved in the constant contemplation of the 
subject. — (Comr., 6.) (Mooney's "Ghost Dance Religion," 
14 Ann. Rep. B. A. E., p. 706.) 



CHIEF JOSEPH HINMATON OF THE SAHAPTIN OR 
NEZ PERCES 

They [Nez Perces and Flat-heads] were friendly in their 
dispositions, and honest to the most scrupulous degree in their 
intercourse with the white men. . . . Simply to call these 



Campfire Stories of Indian Character 5^9 

people religious would convey but a faint idea of the deep hue of 
piety and devotion which pervades the whole of their conduct. 
Their honesty is immaculate; and their purity of purpose and 
observance of the rites of their religion are most uniform and 
remarkable. They are certainly more like a nation of saints 
than a horde of savages. 

So they were described in Captain Bonneville's narrative 
after his visit in 1834. 

They were first oflficially noticed in the report of the Indian 
Commissioner for 1843, where they are described as "noble, 
industrious, sensible," and well disposed toward the whites, 
while " though brave as Caesar," the whites have nothing to dread 
at their hands in case of their dealing out to them what they 
conceive to be right and equitable. — (14 Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn., 
p. 712.) 

About the middle of the last century their chief was 
Hinmaton-Kalatkit (Thunder-rolling), known more gen- 
erally as Chief Joseph. 

He was a splendid example of the best type of Redman, 
of superb physique, clinging to the ancient way, beloved 
by his people, feared by his enemies and, as it proved, a 
leader of tremendous power and resource. 

In 1877, after they had sustained innumerable encroach- 
ments and flagrant violations of their treaty, a quarrel 
broke out between them and the whites and an Indian 
was killed. 

Chief Joseph restrained his men and appealed for justice. 
For reply a band of whites raided the Indian reservation, 
ran off their cattle and killed the Indian in charge. So the 
war broke out. The first three fights were defeats for the 
whites, but more troops were soon rushed up. Joseph had 
barely one hundred warriors and three hundred and fifty 
helpless women and children. General Howard was behind 
him. General Miles in front, Colonel Sturges and the Crows 



530 The Book of Woodcraft 

on his flank. He was obliged to retreat, and did so for 
one thousand miles. "A retreat worthy to be remembered 
with the story of the Ten Thousand." 

After four months his starving band of warriors, now 
reduced to half, surrendered to General Miles on condition 
of being sent back to Idaho in the spring. 

It was promised Joseph tha.t he would be taken to Tongue 
River and kept there till spring and then be returned to Idaho. 
General Sheridan, ignoring the promises made on the battle- 
field, ostensibly on account of the difficulty of getting supplies 
there from Fort Buford, ordered the hostiles to Leavenworth 
. . . but different treatment was promised them when they 
held rifles in their hands. — (Sutherland, i.) 

Seven years passed before the promise was kept, and in the 
meantime the band had been reduced by disease and death in 
Indian Territory from about 450 to about 280, 

This strong testimony to the high character of Joseph and his 
people and the justice of their cause comes from the commis- 
sioner at the head of Indian affairs during and immediately after 
the outbreak: 

I traveled with him in Kansas and the Indian Territory for 
nearly a week and found him to be one of the most gentlemanly 
and well-behaved Indians that I ever met. He is bright and 
intelligent, and is anxious for the welfare of his people. . . . 
The Nez Perces are very much superior to the Osages and Paw- 
nees in the Indian Territory; they are even brighter than the 
Poncas, and care should be taken to place them where they will 
thrive. ... It will be borne in mind that Joseph has never 
made a treaty with the United States, and that he has never 
surrendered to the government the lands he claimed to own in 
Idaho. ... I had occasion in my last annual report to 
say that "Joseph and his followers have shown themselves to 
be brave men and skilled soldiers, who, with one exception, have 
observed the rules of civilized warfare, and have not mutilated 
their dead enemies. " These Indians were encroached upon by 
white settlers on soil they believed to be their own, and when 
these encroachments became intolerable they were compelled, 
in their own estimation, to take up arms. " — (Comr. 27a.) 



Campfire Stories of Indian Qiaracter 531 

In all our sad Indian history there is nothing to exceed in 
pathetic eloquence the surrender speech of the Nez Perc6 
chief: 

"I am tired of fighting. Our chiefs are killed. Looking-Glass 
is dead. Toohulhulsote is dead. The old men are all dead. 
It is the young who say 'yes' or 'no.' He who led the young 
men is dead. It is cold and we have no blankets. The little 
cliildren are freezing to death. My people, some of them, have 
run away to the hills and have no blankets, no food. No one 
knows where they are — perhaps freezing to death. I want 
to have time to look for my children and see how many of them 
I can find. Maybe I shall find them among the dead. Hear 
me, my chiefs. I am tired. My heart is sick and sad. From 
where the sun now stands I will fight no more forever. " — (Sec. 
War. 3.) (Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn. 14, p. 714-15.) 

WHITE CALF, CHIEF OF THE BLACKFEET 

(Died at Washington, Jan. 29, 1903) 
(By George Bird Grinnell) 

For sixty years, as boy, young man and fierce warrior, 
he had roamed the prairie, free as the other wild creatures 
who traversed it, and happy in his freedom. 

He had been but a Uttle fellow when the white men first 
came into the country to trade, but he was old enough to 
have been present, and was well enough thought of in the 
tribe, at the signing of Governor Stevens's treaty with the 
Prairie people in 1855, to affix his mark — as The Father — 
to that paper. As yet the coming of the white man meant 
little to him and to his people. It furnished them a market 
for their robes and furs, for which they received in exchange 
guns and ammunition, which made them more than ever 
terrible to their enemies. The whole broad prairie was 
still theirs to camp on and to hunt over. Their lodges were 
pitched along the streams from the Red Deer River on the 



532 The Book of Woodcraft 

north to the Elk River on the south, and their war journeys 
extended south to the country of the Mexicans. 

More than twenty years ago happened the greatest mis- 
fortune that ever came to his tribe. The buffalo disap- 
peared and never returned. From this time forth they were 
forced to depend on the food given them by the white men, 
and, in order to receive that food, they were obliged to stay 
in one place, to confine themselves to that Uttle corner of 
ground, their reservation. 

Long before this he had become the cliief of his tribe — 
the father of his people. Already he was putting their 
welfare before his own, was thinking first of them and of 
himself last. 

For it was the duty of a chief to look out for the well- 
being of his people; to care for the widows and orphans; 
to make peace between those who quarrel; to give his whole 
heart and his whole mind to the work of helping his people 
to be happy. Such were the duties that the old-time chief 
studied to perform. And since on his example and his 
precept so much depended, he must be a man who was 
brave in war, generous in disposition, Hberal in temper, 
deliberate in making up his mind, and of good judgment. 
Such men gave themselves to their work with heart and 
soul, and strove for the welfare of those in their charge 
with an earnestness and a devotion that perhaps are not 
equaled by any other rulers of men. 

And this devotion to his fellows was not without its in- 
fluence on the man himself; after a time the spirit of good 
will which animated him began to shine forth in his coun- 
tenance, so that at length, and as they grew old, such chiefs 
came to have the beneficent and kindly expression that we 
may sometimes see on the countenance of an elderly minis- 
ter of God whose life has been one long, loving sacrifice of 
self to his Maker and to his fellowmen. And if the face 



Campfire Stories of Indian Qiaracter 533 

was benevolent and kindly, not less sweet and gentle was 
the spirit that animated the man. Simple, honest, generous, 
tender-hearted, and yet withal on occasion merry and jolly. 
Such men, once known, commanded universal respect and 
admiration. They were like the conventional notion of 
Indians in nothing save in the color of the skin. They 
were true friends, delightful companions, wise counselors 
— men whose conduct toward their fellowmen we all 
might profitably imitate. We do not commonly attribute 
a spirit of altruism to Indians, but it was seen in these old- 
time chiefs. 

Such a chief was White Calf, long chief of the Blackfeet. 
In his day he had been a famous warrior, and in the battle 
which took place in 1867, when the great chief, Many 
Horses, was killed. White Calf with two others had rushed 
into a great crowd of the enemy — the Crows and Gros- 
Ventres — who were trying to kill Wolf Calf, even then an 
old man, and, scattering them like smoke before the wind, 
had pulled the old man out of the crush and brought him 
safely off. It was not long after this that he put aside the 
warpath forever, and since then had confined himself to 
working for the good of his people by the arts of peace. 
No sacrifice was too great for him to make if he thought 
that by it the tribe might be helped; yet he possessed a 
sturdy independence that bullying and intimidation could 
not move — even that threats of soldiers and the guard 
house could not shake. When he was sure that he was right 
he could not be stirred. Yet, if reasons were advanced 
which appealed to his judgment, no man was quicker to 
acknowledge error. 

Though nearly eighty years old the chief was not bowed 
with the weight of time nor were his natural forces greatly 
abated. He was still erect and walked with a briskness 
and an elasticity rare for one of his years. Yet in a degree 



S34 The Book of Woodcraft 

he felt that his powers were failing, and he sometimes 
avoided the decision of important questions on the ground 
that he was getting old and his mind was no longer good. 

A Httle more than two weeks ago he stood in the pres- 
ence of the Chief Magistrate of the nation, who shook him 
warmly by the hand and talked to liim and the others of 
his people present. A few days later, just as they were 
about to leave Washington for their distant prairie home, 
the old chief caught cold, pneumonia set in, and just 
before midnight on the 29th of January he peacefully 
passed away. 

He was a man who was great in the breadth of his judg- 
ment, and in the readiness with which he recognized the 
changes he and his people were now obliged to face, and 
adapted himself to these changes; but greatest of all, in 
the devotion that he held for his tribe, and in the way in 
which he sacrificed himself for their welfare. Buffalo 
hunter, warrior, savage ruler and diplomat; then learner, 
instructor, persuader and encourager in new ways, he was 
always the father of the people. Just as for many years 
he had been constantly serving them, so now, at the end of 
his long chieftainship, he gave up his Ufe in the successful 
effort to protect them from a great calamity. 

WOVOKA, THE PROPHET OF THE GHOST DANCE 

There have been many in every tribe and every time who 
have brought shame on their people. There have been 
whole tribes who forgot their race's high ideals. From 
time to time great prophets have arisen amongst them to 
stir up these backsliders, and bring them back to the faith 
of their fathers. The last of these was Wovoka, the Piute 
— the Mystic Dreamer. About 1887 he began preaching 
his doctrine of the coming Messiah and taught the Red- 



Campfire Stories of Indian Qiaracter 535 

men that they must worship him by the Ghost dance. This 
is his own simple setting forth of the doctrine: 

When the Sun died I went up into Heaven and saw God and 
all the people who had died a long time ago. God told me to 
come back and tell my people they must be good and love 
one another and not to fight or steal or lie. He gave me this 
dance to give to my people. — (Ethn. Ann. 14. p. 764.) 

At Pine Ridge, S. D., in the winter of 1890, the Sioux 
were learning this dance with its songs and its Christ-Uke 
creed. It meant the end of war. War had been their 
traditional noblest pursuit. But now at the bidding of the 
new prophet they agreed to abjure it forever; and they pre- 
pared to take up the new rehgion of love. 

The Indian agent, Hke most of his kind, was ignorant 
and utterly unfitted for his position. He said it was some 
new sort of a war dance. The troops were sent for and the 
Indian populace was gathered together at a place called 
Wounded Knee near Pine Ridge (Dec. 29, 1890). They 
had submitted and turned in their rifles. Then, maddened 
by the personal indignities offered them in searching for 
more arms, a young Indian who still had a gun fired at the 
soldiers. It is not stated that he hit any one, but the 
answer was a volley that killed half the men. A minute 
later a battery of four Hotchkiss machine guns was turned 
on the defenceless mass of \drtual prisoners; 120 men, and 
250 helpless women and children were massacred in broad 
dayUght, mown down, and left on the plain, while the white 
soldiers pursued the remnant and the cripples, to do them 
to death in the hills. 

Almost all the dead warriors were found lying near where the 
•'fight" began, about Bigfoot's teepee, but the bodies of the 
women and children were found scattered along for two miles 



536 The Book of Woodcraft 

from the scene of the encounter, showing that they had beec 
killed while trying to escape. — (Ethn. Ann. 14, pp. 868 - 870.) 

As the men were in a separate company from the women 
and children, no one pretended that it was accidental. 

The women, as they were fleeing with their babes, were 
killed together, shot right through, and the women who were 
very heavy with child were also killed. All the Indians fled 
in these three directions, and after most all of them had been 
killed, a cry was made that all those who were not killed or 
wounded should come forth and they would be safe. Little 
boys who were not wounded came out of their places of refuge, 
and as soon as they came in sight, a number of soldiers sur- 
rounded them and butchered them there. — ("Ghost Dance 
Religion," Mooney; Ethn. Rep. 14. 885-886.) 

Nothing in the way of punishment was done by the 
authorities to any of the assassins. When the guards of 
Czar Nicholas shot down some scores of peasants who, con- 
trary to orders, marched in a body to his palace, all America 
rang with horror and indignation, but nothing was said 
about the infinitely worse massacre at Wounded Knee. 

As sure as there is a God in Heaven, this thing has to be 
met again, and for every drop of righteous blood spilled 
that day and on a thousand other days of hke abomination, 
a fearful vengeance is being stored and will certainly break 
on us. 

As sure as Cain struck down himself when he mur- 
dered Abel; as sure as the blood of righteous Naboth 
cried from the ground and wrecked the house and the 
kingdom and the race of Ahab; so surely has the 
American nation to stand before the bar of an earthly 
power — a power invincible, overwhelming, remorseless, 
and pay the uttermost price. 

As sure as this land was taken by fraud and held by 



Campfire Stories of Indian Qiaracter 537 

cruelty and massacre, we have filled for ourselves a 
vial of wrath. It will certainly be outpoured on us to 
the last drop and the dregs. What the Persian did to 
rich and rotten Babylon, what the Goth did to rich and 
bloody Rome, another race will surely do to us. 

If ever the aroused and reinspired Yellow man comes 
forth in his hidden strength, in his reorganized millions, 
overpowering, slaving, burning, possessing, we can only 
bow our heads and say, "These are the instruments of God's 
wrath. We brought this on ourselves. All this we did to 
the Redman. The fate of Babylon and of bloody Rome is 
ours. We wrote our own doom as they did." 

THE APACHE INDIAN'S CASE 

(From "On the Border with Crook" by Captain John 
G. Bourke, U. S. A. Courtesy of Messrs Charles Scrib- 
ner's Sons.) 

For years I have collected the data and have contem- 
plated the project of writing the history of this people, 
based not only upon the accounts transmitted to us from 
the Spaniards and their descendants, the Mexicans, but 
upon the Apache's own story, as conserved in his myths, 
and traditions ; but I have lacked both the leisure and the 
inclination, to put the project into execution. It would 
require a man with the even-handed sense of justice pos- 
sessed by a Guizot, and the keen, critical, analytical powers 
of a Gibbon, to deal fairly with a question in which the 
ferocity of the savage Redman has been more than equaled 
by the ferocity of the Christian Caucasian; in which the 
occasional treachery of the aborigines has found its best 
excuse in the unvarying Punic faith of the Caucasian in- 
vader: in which promises on each side have been made. 



538 The Book of Woodcraft 

only to deceive and to be broken; in which the red hand 
of war has rested most heavily upon shrieking mother 
and wailing babe. 

If from this history, the Caucasian can extract any 
cause of self -laudation I am glad of it: speaking as a cen- 
sor who has read the evidence with as much impartiality as 
could be expected from one who started in with the sincere 
conviction that the only good Indian was a dead Indian, 
and that the only use to make of him was that of a fertilizer; 
and who, from studying the documents in the case, and 
listening little by Httle to the savage's own story, has ar- 
rived at the conclusion that perhaps Pope Paul III was 
right when he solemnly declared that the natives of the 
New World had souls and must be treated as human beings, 
and admitted to the sacraments when found ready to re- 
ceive them. I feel it to be my duty to say that the Apache 
has found himself in the very best of company when he 
committed any atrocity, it matters not how vile, and that 
his complete history, if it could be written by himself, would 
not be any special cause of self-complacency to such white 
men as believe in a just God, who will visit the sins of par- 
ents upon their children, even to the third and fourth 
generation. 

We have become so thoroughly Pecksniffian in our self- 
laudation, in our exaltation of our own virtues, that we 
have become grounded in the error of imagining that the 
American savage is more cruel in Ms war customs than 
other nations of the earth have been; this I have already 
intimated, in a misconception, and statistics, for such as 
care to dig them out, will prove that I am right. The 
Assyrians cut their conquered foes Hmb from limb; the 
Israelites spared neither parent nor child; the Romans 
crucified head downward the gladiators who revolted under 
Spartacus; even in the civilized England of the past century, 



Campfire Stories of Indian Character 539 

the wretch convicted of treason was executed under cir- 
cumstances of cruelty which would have been too much for 
the nerves of the fiercest of the Apaches or Sioux. In- 
stances in support of what I here assert crop up all over 
the pages of history; the trouble is, not to discover them, 
but to keep them from blinding the memory to m.atters 
more pleasant to remember. Certainly, the Am.erican 
aborigine is not indebted to his pale-faced brother, no 
matter of what nation or race he may be, for lessons in 
tenderness and humanity. 

After reviewing the m.ethods by which the gentle, friendly 
natives were turned into tigers, Bourke gives this £nal 
example : 

*'And then there have been 'Pinole Treaties,' in which 
the Apaches have been invited to sit down and eat repasts 
seasoned with the exhilarating strychnine. So that, take 
it for all in all, the honors have been easy so far as treachery, 
brutality, cruelty and lust have been concerned. The one 
great difference has been that the Apache could not read 
or write and hand down to posterity the story of his wrongs, 
as he, and he alone, knew them." — ("On the Border with 
Crook," John G. Bourke, pp. 114-15-16-17-18.) 

THE WIPING OUT OF NANXI-CHADDI 

(December 27th, 1872.) 

(From the account by Captain J. G. Bourke, in his book 
"On the Border with Crook" 1892. By permission of 
Messrs Charles Scribner's Sons.) 

For the same old reason, as always before, the Apaches 

of Arizona were fighting the whites, but doing it successfully. 

The Government at length sent against them fresh 



540 The Book of Woodcraft 

troops under Gen. George Crook, who was said by Gen. 
W. T. Sherman to be the greatest Indian fighter and 
manager that the Army of the United States had had. 
But, more than this, he was a man respected, admired and 
beloved by every one who knew him — friend or foe. All 
the wise ones felt that the solution was in sight when Crook 
took command. 

Throughout the history of the matter, we find the great 
General torn by two conflicting thoughts — first, "My 
duty as a soldier of my country"; and, second, "These 
Indians are in the right." In his own words, "The Ameri- 
can Indian commands respect for his rights, only so long 
as he inspires terror with his rifle." 

With characteristic sternness, energy and fortitude he 
began the campaign, as winter set in, just when his pred- 
ecessors had moved into comfortable quarters. 

To realize that the mountains were full of Apaches that 
swooped down at unexpected times, spreading fire and 
slaughter and fearful destruction — was one thing and an 
easy one, but to find them and strike back was a wholly 
different matter. 

The white soldiers under Crook would have been power- 
less, in spite of their far superior numbers, their superb 
equipment, abundance of food and ammunition, but for 
the fact that the Apaches themselves were divided, and the 
white soldiers had with them a large band of these red 
renegades, who did all the scouting, trailing and finer work 
of following and finding the foe, as well as guarding their 
white allies from surprise. 

Late in December, Major Brown, with three companies 
of the Fifth Cavalry, some forty Apache scouts, and about 
one hundred more from the Pima nation, under their Chief, 
Esquinosquizn or Bocon, set out to run down the band of 
Chief Chuntz, who was terrorizing those settlers that had 



Campfire Stories of Indian Qiaracter 541 

encroached on the acknowledged territory of the Apaches, 
the Gila and Salt River valleys. They were led by Nan- 
tahay, a renegade Apache of the region, and set out fully 
equipped and determined to kill or capture every Apache 
they could find. 

Led by these renegades, the soldiers crept silently up a 
tremendous canyon, and at last into plain view of a large, 
shallow cave or natural rock shed in which was a consider- 
able band of Apache Indians, men, women, and children, 
only forty yards away and wholly unconscious of the 
enemy so near. 

The men were singing and dancing in a religious cere- 
mony; the women were preparing the midday meal. The 
white soldiers had ample time to post themselves and select 
each his victim. 

" Had not the Apaches been interested in their own sing- 
ing they might surely have heard the low whisper, "Ready! 
aim! fire!" but it would have been too late; the die was 
cast, and their hour had come. 

The fearful noise, which we have heard reverberating 
from peak to peak and from crag to crag, was the volley 
poured in by Ross and his comrades, which had sent six 
souls to their last account, and sounded the death-knell of 
a powerful band. 



Brown's first work was to see that the whole line was 
impregnable to assault from the beleaguered garrison of the 
cave, and then he directed his interpreters to summon all 
to an unconditional surrender. The only answer was a 
shriek of hatred and defiance, threats of what we had to 
expect, yells of exultation at the thought that not one of 
us should ever see the light of another day. 



542 The Book of Woodcraft 

There v;as a lull of a few minutes ; each side was measur- 
ing its own strength and that of its opponent. It was 
apparent that any attempt to escalade without ladders 
would result in the loss of m.ore than half our command; 
the great rock wall in front of the cave was not an inch 
less than ten feet in height at its lowest point, and smooth 
as the palm of the hand; it would be m.adness to attempt to 
clim.b it, because the m.om.ent the assailants reached the 
top, the lances of the invested force could push them back 
to the ground, wounded to death. Three or four of our 
picked shots were posted in eligible positions overlooking 
the places where the Apaches had been seen to expose 
themselves; this, in the hope that any recurrence of such 
foolhardiness, would afford an opportunity for the sharp- 
shooters to show their skill. Of the main body, one half 
was in reserve fifty yards behind the skirmish line — to 
call it such, where the whole business was a skirmish line 
— with carbines loaded and cocked, and a handful of cart- 
ridges on the clean rocks in front, and every man on the 
lookout to prevent the escape of a single warrior, should 
any be fortunate enough to sneak or break through the 
first line. The men on the first line had orders to fire as 
rapidly as they chose, directing aim against the roof of 
the cave, with the view to having the bullets glance down 
amxong the Apache men, who had massed immediately back 
of the rock rampart. 

This plan worked admirably, and, so far as we could 
judge, our shots were telling upon the Apaches and irrita- 
ting them to that degree that they no longer sought shelter, 
but boldly faced our fire, and returned it with energy, the 
weapons of the men beiijg reloaded by the women, who 
shared their dangers. A wail from a squaw and the feeble 
cry of a little babe were proof that the missiles of death 
were not seeking men alone. Brown ordered our fire to 



Campfire Stories of Indian Character S43 

cease, and for the last time summoned the Apaches to 
surrender, or to let their women and children come out 
unmolested. On their side, the Apaches also ceased all 
hostile demonstrations, and it seemed to some of us Ameri- 
cans that they must be making ready to yield, and were 
discussing the matter among themselves. Our Indian 
guides and interpreters raised the cry, "Look out! there 
goes the Death Song; they are going to charge!" It was a 
weird chant,* one not at all easy to describe, half wail and 
half exultation — the frenzy of despair, and the wild cry 
for revenge. Now, the petulant, querulous treble of the 
squaws kept time with the shufSing feet, and again the 
deeper growl of the savage bull-dogs, who represented man- 
hood in that cave, was flung back from the cold, pitiless 
brown of the cliffs. 

"Look out! here they come!" Over the rampart, 
guided by one impulse, moving as if they were all part of 
one t'ody, jumped and ran twenty of the warriors — superb- 
looking fellows, all of them; each carried upon his back a 
quiver filled with the long reed arrows of the tribe; each 
held in his hands a bow and a rifle, the latter at full cock. 
Half of the party stood upon the rampart, which gave 
them some chance to sight our men behind the smaller 
rocks in front, and blazed away for all they were worth — 
they were trying to make a demonstration to engage our 
attention, while the other part suddenly slipped down and 
around our right flank, and out through the rocks which 
had so effectively sheltered the retreat of the one who had 
so nearly succeeded in getting away, earlier in the morning. 
Their motives were divined, and the move was frustrated; 

* A Death Song, probatly the one used here, is: 
"Father we are going out to die, 
Let not fear enter into our hearts. 

For ourselves, we grieve not, but for those that are left behind. 
We are going out to die." 



544 The Book of Woodcraft 

our men rushed to the attack like furies, each seeming to 
be anxious to engage the enemy at close quarters. Six or 
seven of the army were killed in a space not twenty-five 
feet square, and the rest driven back within the cave, more 
or less wounded. 



One of the charging party, seeing that so much atten- 
tion was converged upon our right, had slipped down un- 
noticed from the rampart, and made his way to the space 
between our two Unes, and had sprung to the top of a huge 
boulder, and there had begun his war-whoop, as a token of 
encouragement to those still behind. I imagine that he 
was not aware of our second line, and thought that once in 
our rear, ensconced in a convenient nook in the rocks, he 
could keep us busy by picking us off at his leisure. His 
chant was never fiendish; it was at once his song of glory 
and his death song; he had broken through our Une of fire, 
only to meet a far more cruel death. Twenty carbines 
were gleaming in the sunlight just flushing the cliffs; forty 
eyes were sighting along the barrels. The Apache looked 
into the eyes of his enemies, and in not one did he see the 
slightest sign of mercy; he tried to say something; what it 
was we never could tell. "No! no! soldadoes!" in broken 
Spanish, was all we could make out, before the resounding 
volley had released another soul from its earthly casket 
and let the bleeding corpse fall to the ground, as Ump as a 
wet moccasin. He was really a handsome warrior; tall, 
well-proportioned, finely muscled, and with a bold, manly 
countenance. "Shot to death," was the verdict of all 
who paused to look upon him, but that didn't half express 
tiie state of the case. I have never seen a man more thor- 
oughly shot to pieces than was this one; every bullet seemed 



Campfire Stories of Indian Character 545 

to have struck, and not less than eight or ten had inflicted 
mortal wounds. 

The savages in the cave, with death staring them in the 
face, did not seem to lose their courage — or shall we say 
despair? They resumed their chant, and sang with vigor 
and boldness, until Brown determined that the battle or 
siege must end. Our two Unes were now massed in one, 
and every officer and man told to get ready a package of 
cartridges; then, as fast as the breech-block of the carbine 
could be opened and lowered, we were to fire into the 
mouth of the cave, hoping to inflict the greatest damage by 
glancing bullets, and then charge in by the entrance on our 
right flank, back of the rock rampart which had served as 
the means of exit for the hostiles when they made their 
attack. 



The Apaches did not relax their fire, but, from the in- 
creasing groans of the women, we knew that our shots were 
telhng, either upon the women in the cave, or upon their 
relatives among the men for whom they were sorrowing. 

It was exactly like fighting with wild animals in a trap; 
the Apaches had made up their minds to die, if relief did 
not reach them from some of the other "rancherias" sup- 
posed to be close by. 

* * ^ • * * * * 

Burns and several others went to the crest and leaned 
over, to see what all the frightful hubub was about. They 
saw the conflict going on beneath them and in spite of the 
smoke, could make out that the Apaches were nestling up 
close to the rock rampart, so as to avoid as much as pos- 
sible the projectiles which were raining down from the roof 
of their eyrie home. 



54^ The Book of Woodcraft 

It didn't take Burns five seconds to decide what should 
be done; he had two of his men harnessed with the sus- 
penders of their comrades, and made them lean well over 
the precipice, while the harness was used to hold them in 
place; these men were to fire with their revolvers at the 
enemy beneath, and for a volley or so they did very effec- 
tive work, but their Irish blood got the better of their rea- 
son and, in their excitement, they began to throw their 
revolvers at the enemy; this kind of ammunition was rather 
too costly, but it suggested a novel method of annihilating 
the enemy. Brown ordered his men to get together and 
roll several of the huge boulders, which covered the surface 
of the mountain, and drop them over on the unsuspecting 
foe. The noise was frightful, the destruction sickening 
Our volleys were still directed against the inner faces of the 
cave and the roof, and the Apaches seemed to realize that 
their only safety lay in crouching close to the great stone 
heap in front; but even this precarious shelter was now taken 
away; the air was filled with the bounding, plunging frag- 
ments of stone, breaking into thousands of pieces, with 
other thousands behind, crashing with the momentum 
gained in a descent of hundreds of feet. No human voice 
could be heard in such a cyclone of wrath; the volume of 
dust was so dense that no eye could pierce it, but over on 
our left, it seemed that for some reason we could still dis- 
cern several figures guarding that extremity of the enemy's 
line — the old Medicine Man, who, decked in all the 
panoply of his office, with feathers on head, decorated shirt 
on back, and all the sacred insignia known to his people, 
had defied the approach of death, and kept his place, firing 
cooUy at everything that moved on our side, that he could 
see, his rifle reloaded and handed back by his assistants — 
either squaws or young men — it was impossible to tell 
which, as only the arms could be noted in the air. Major 



Campfire Stories of Indian Qiaracter 547 

Brown signaled up to Burns to stop pouring down his 
boulders, and at the same time our men were directed to 
cease firing and to make ready to charge; the fire of the 
Apaches had ceased, and their chant of defiance was 
hushed. There was a feeling in the command as if we were 
about to rush through the gates of a cemetery, and that 
we should find a ghastly spectacle within, but, at the same 
time, it might be that the Apaches had retreated to some 
recesses in the innermost depths of the cavern, unknown 
to us, and be prepared to assail all who ventured to cross 
the wall in front. 

Precisely at noon we advanced. Corporal Hanlon, of 
Company G., Fifth Cavalry, being the first man to sur- 
mount the parapet. I hope that my readers will be satis- 
fied with the meagrest description of the awful sight that 
met our eyes. There were men and women dead or writhing 
in the agonies of death, and with them several babies, 
killed by our glancing bullets, or by the storm of rocks and 
stones that descended from above. While one portion of 
the command worked at extricating the bodies from be- 
neath the pile of debris, another stood guard with cocked 
revolvers or carbines, ready to blow out the brains of the 
first wounded savage who might in his desperation attempt 
to kill one of our p( ople. But this precaution was entirely 
useless. All the warriors were dead or dying. 



Thirty-five, if I remember aright, were still living, but 
in the number are included all who were still breathing; 
many were already dying, and nearly one half were dead 
before we started out of that dreadful place. None of the 
warriors were conscious, except one eld man, who serenely 
awaited the last summons; he had received five or six 
wounds, and was practically dead when we sprang over the 



548 The Book of Woodcraft 

entrance wall. There was a general sentiment of sorrow 
for the old Medicine Man who had stood up so fiercely 
on the left of the Apache line, we found his still warm corpse 
crushed out of all semblance to humanity, beneath a huge 
mass of rock, which has also extinguished at one fell stroke 
the Ught of the Hfe of the squaw and the young man who 
had remained by his side." — ("On the Border with 
Crook"; Bourke; pp. 196-9). 

Seventy-six, including all the men, were killed. Eigh- 
teen women and six children were taken prisoners. Thus 
was wiped out a band of heroic men whose victorious foes 
admitted that their victims were in the right. 

the cheyennes' last fight, or the ending of dull 
knife's band 

(Condensed by permission from E. B. Bronson's 
account as given in "Reminiscences of a Ranchman." 
D. P. & Co. This with "The Redblooded" by the same 
author should be read by all who are interested in the 
heroic days of the West.) 

After the Custer fight, the American Aimy succeeded in 
rounding up the Indians who could not or would not escape 
to Canada, the one land of justice that was near, and 
among these were Dull Knife's Cheyennes. They sur- 
rendered on promise of fair treatment. 

But as soon as they were in the power of the American 
Government (President R. B. Hayes), they were marched 
six hundred miles south into Indian Territory, where they 
were crowded into a region so unhealthy that it was obvi- 
ously a question of but three or four years before all would 



Campfire Stories of Indian Qiaracter 549 

die. They were starving, too, for the promised rations 
were never delivered. Nearly half were sick of fevers and 
malaria, for medicine was refused them. The two hun- 
dred and thirty-five warriors were reduced to sixty-nine. 
The extermination of the tribe was being effected. They 
begged for succor; they asked only to go home to their 
own land, but, as usual, no notice was taken of their 
prayers. 

They could not live where they were. The American 
Government was obviously bent on killing them off, so they 
decided that it would be better to die at home — taking the 
chance of bullets rather than the certainty of fever. 

On the ninth of September, 1878, therefore. Dull Knife, 
their head chief, gathered in his ponies, packed up his camp, 
burned the last bridge, and, with warriors, women, and 
children, set out for home, in defiance of the soldiers of a 
corrupt government. 

At dawn his departure was discovered, troops were 
ordered out, telegraph wires were busied, and then began a 
flight and a pursuit the story of which should thrill the 
world for the heroism of the fugitives, and shock humanity 
for the diabolical brutality of the American authorities. 

Two thousand troops were sent against this handful of 
some sixty-nine warriors, sick and weak with starvation, 
and encumbered with about two hundred and fifty, more 
or less, sick women and children. 

I do not believe there was an American soldier who was 
not ashamed of his job. But he had no right to an opinion. 
He was under orders to run down and capture or kill this 
band of starving Indians, whose abominable crime was that 
they loved their homes. 

We have had fragmentary accounts of that awful flight. 
Night and day the warriors rode and fought. Some days 
they covered seventy miles and when their horses gave out. 



550 The Book of Woodcraft 

they raided the settlements for a new supply. Against them 
were four lines of soldiers, with railroads to keep them 
supplied and the United States Treasury to draw on, and 
yet this starving band of heroes fought them in two or three 
pitched battles every week; fought them when nearly even; 
eluded them when too strong; fooled them, and caring ever 
for their wives and families, left all behind; and, at last, on 
the fourth of October, the grand old warrior led his people 
across the South Platte and on to the comparative haven of 
the Niobrara Sandhills. 

This waterless waste of sand gave them a little respite 
from the troops, but no chance to rest, or food to eat. They 
must push on, subsisting on flesh of horses, sacrificed as they 
had need. 

Fresh cordons of troops were made in the country north 
of the Sandhills, and on the eighth of October army 
scouts reported Indian signs near Hot Creek. 

On the thirteenth of October a small band of the fighters 
raided a store and drove off a band of horses from a place 
one mile east of Fort Robinson. These gave them new sup- 
plies, but it also gave their enemies the trail, and four troops 
of cavalry were at once sent to surround Crow Butte, the 
Cheyenne camp. But the Indians were not caught nap- 
ping, the next morning dawned to show only that they had 
quietly passed all lines and were now far on the road to 
Canada. 

Later it was learned that this was the larger part of the 
band, but was under Little Wolf not Dull Knife. He safely 
led them all, and escaped without the loss of a man to the 
far north and found rest. 

This march is not excelled in the annals of warfare. It 
covered a distance of more than one thousand miles in less 
than fifty days, with a column encumbered with women and 
children, every step of the trail contested by all the troops 



Campfire Stories of Indian Character 551 

of the United States Arniy that could be concentrated to 
oppose them; a march that struck and parted like ropes of 
sand the five great military barriers interposed across their 
path; the first across the Kansas Pacific Railway, com- 
manded by General Pope; the second along the Union 
Pacific Railroad in Nebraska, commanded by General 
Crook; the third along the Niobrara, commanded by General 
Bradley; the fourth, the Bear Butte (Seventh Cavalry) 
column, stretched east from the Black Hills; the fifth along 
the Yellowstone, commanded by General Gibbon. 

But Dull Knife and his band of those less able to travel — 
some one hundred and fifty — were still in the Sandhills. 
He sent an urgent prayer to Red Cloud of the Sioux for 
help, but the sad answer was that it was hopeless to resent 
the President's will. Ten days later the troops located the 
Cheyennes. 

(From this to the end is quoted from Bronson.) 

In rags, nearly out of ammunition, famished and worn, 
with scarcely a horse left that could raise a trot, no longer 
able to fight or fly, suffering from cold and disheartened by 
Red Cloud's refusal to receive and shelter them, the splen- 
did old war chief and his men were forced to bow to the 
inevitable and surrender. 

Later in the day Johnson succeeded in rounding up the 
last of Dull Knife's scattered command and headed north 
for White River with his prisoners, one hundred and forty- 
nine Cheyennes and one hundred and thirty-one captured 
ponies. 

The evening of the twenty-fourth, Johnson camped at 
Louis Jenks's ranch on Chadron Creek, near the present 
town of Chadron, Neb. 



552 The Book of Woodcraft 

A heavy snowstorm had set in early in the afternoon, 
and the night was so bitter and the Indians so weakened 
by their campaign that Johnson felt safe to leave them free 
to take the best shelter they could find in the brush along 
the deep valley of Chadron Creek. 

This leniency he was not long in regretting. 

Dull Knife and his band had been feeding liberally for 
two days on troopers' rations, and had so far recovered 
strength of body and heart that when morning came on the 
twenty-fifth the sentries were greeted with a feeble volley 
from rifle pits in the brush, dug by Dull Knife in the frozen 
ground during the night! 

And here in these pits indomitable old Dull Knife fought 
stubbornly for two days more — fought and held the troops 
at bay until Lieutenant Chase brought up a field gun from 
Fort Robinson and shelled them to a final surrender! 

Thus ended the first episode of Dull Knife's magnificent 
fight for liberty and fatherland, and yet had he had food, 
ammunition, and mounts, the chances are a hundred to one 
that his heroic purpose would have been accomplished, and 
the entire band that left Reno, barring those killed along the 
trail, would have escaped in safety to freedom in the then 
wilds of the Northwest Territory. 

And that, even in this apparently final surrender to 
hopeless odds, Dull Knife was still not without hope of fur- 
ther resistance, was proved by the fact that when he came 
out of his trenches only a few comparatively old and worth- 
less arms were surrendered, while it later became known that 
twenty-two good rifles had been taken apart and were 
swung, concealed, beneath the clothing of the squaws! 

After taking a day's rest Johnson marched his command 
into Fort Robinson, arriving in the evening in a heavy 
snowstorm, where the Cheyennes were imprisoned in one 
of the barracks and their meagre equipment dumped in 



Campfirc Stories of Indian Character 553 

with them, without further search for arms or ammuni- 
tion. Later it was learned that that night the Indians 
quietly loosened some of the flooring of the barrack and hid 
their arms and ammunition beneath it, so that when a 
more careful search of their belongings and persons was 
made two days later, they were found to be absolutely with- 
out weapons of any description. 



Dull Knife and his people were confined in the log bar- 
rack at the southeast angle of the parade ground [at Fort 
Robinson]. No doors were locked or windows barred. A 
small guard patroled the barrack prison night and day. 

What to do with these indomitable people puzzled the 
Indian Bureau and the army. 



In December a great council was held in the barrack 
prison. The Sioux chiefs, Red Cloud, American Horse, 
Red Dog, and No Flesh, came over from their agency to 
attend it. The Government was represented by Captains 
Wessells and Vroom and their juniors. The Cheyennes 
were gathered in a close circle, the ofiicers and visiting 
chiefs near its centre, the bucks back of them, and farther 
back still the squaws and children. 

Red Cloud was the principal Sioux speaker. He said in 
substance: 

"Our hearts are sore for you. 

"Many of our own blood are among your dead. This 
has made our hearts bad. 

" But what can we do? The Great Father is all-powerful. 
His people fill the whole earth. We must do what he says. 
We have begged him to allow you to come to live among 



554 The Book of Woodcraft 

us. We hope he may let you come. What we have we will 
share with you. But, remember, what he directs, that you 
must do. 

*' We cannot help you. The snows are thick on the hills. 
Our ponies are thin. The game is scarce. You cannot 
resist, nor can we. So listen to your old friend and do with- 
out complaint what the Great Father tells you. " 

The old Cheyenne war chief, Dull Knife, then stepped 
slowly to the centre of the circle, a grim, lean figure. 

Erect, despite his sixty-odd years, with a face of a classi- 
cal Roman profile, with the steady, penetrating glance and 
noble, commanding bearing of a great leader of men, Dull 
Knife stood in his worn canvas moccasins and ragged, 
threadbare blanket, the very personification of the great- 
ness of heart and soul that cannot be subdued by poverty 
and defeat. 

Never when riding at the head of hundreds of his wild 
warriors, clad in the purple of his race — leggings of golden 
yellow buckskin, heavily beaded, blanket of dark blue 
broadcloth, warbonnnet of eagles' feathers that trailed 
behind him on the ground, necklace of bears' claws, the 
spoils of many a deadly tussle — never in his life did Dull 
Knife look more a chieftain than there in his captivity and 
rags. 

He first addressed the Sioux: 

"We know you for our friends, whose words we may 
believe. We thank you for asking us to share your lands. 
We hope the Great Father will let us come to you. All we 
ask is to be allowed to live, and to live in peace. I seek no 
war with any one. An old man, my fighting days are done. 
We bowed to the will of the Great Father and went far into 
the south where he told us to go. There we found a Chey- 
enne cannot live. Sickness came among us that made 
mourning in every lodge. Then the treaty promises were 



Campfire Stories of Indian Character 555 

broken, and our rations were short. Those not worn by 
disease were wasted by hunger. To stay there meant that 
all of us would die. Our petitions to the Great Father 
were unheeded. We thought it better to die fighting to 
regain our old homes than to perish of sickness. Then our 
march we begun. The rest you know. " 

Then turning to Captain Wessells and his oflEicers: 

"Tell the Great Father Dull Knife and his people ask 
only to end their days here in the north where they were 
born. Tell him we want no more war. We caimot live in 
the south; there is no game. Here, when rations are short, 
we can hunt. Tell him if he lets us stay here Dull Knife's 
people will hurt no one. Tell him if he tries to send us back 
we will butcher each other with our own knives. I have 
spoken." 

Captain Wessells's reply was brief — an assurance that 
Dull Knife's words should go to the Great Father. 

The Cheyennes sat silent throughout the council, all 
save one, a powerful young buck named Buffalo Hump, 
old Dull Knife's son. With a thin strip of old canvas, that 
served as his only covering, drawn tightly about his tall 
figure, his bronze face aflame with sentiments of wrong, of 
anger, and of hatred, Buffalo Hump strode rapidly from 
one end to the other of the long barrack room, casting fierce 
glances at the white men, the very incarnation of savage 
wrath. From beginning to end of the council I momen- 
tarily expected to see him leap on some member of the 
party, and try to rend him with his hands. 

Of course nothing came of the council. The War and 
Interior Departments agreed that it would be imprudent 
to permit these unsubduable people to be merged into the 
already restless ranks of the Sioux. It was therefore 
decided to march them back south to Fort Reno, whence 
they had come. 



556 The Book of Woodcraft 

January opened with very bitter weather. Six or eight 
inches of snow covered the ground. The mercury daily 
made long excursions below zero. Even the troops in 
cantonment at Canby were suffering severely from the cold 
— some with frozen feet and hands. It was all but impossi- 
ble weather for marching. 

Nevertheless, on January 5th, Captain Wessells received 
orders from the War Department to immediately start Dull 
Knife's band, as quietly and peaceably as possible, and un- 
der proper escort, on the march to Fort Reno, six hundred 
miles away in the south! This was the decision of the 
Indian Bureau, and the Secretary of War was requested to 
have the decision immediately enforced. Hence the order 
which reached Captain Wessells. 

Captain Wessells sent a guard to the barrack and had 
Dull Knife, Old Crow, and Wild Hog brought into his pres- 
ence at headquarters. On the arrival of the Indians a 
council was held. Captain Wessells advised them of the 
order of the Department that they were to return to the 
Indian Territory. 

Dull Knife rose to reply. His whole figure trembled with 
rage; his bronze cheeks assumed a deeper red; the fires of 
suppressed passion blazed through his eyes until they glit- 
tered with the ferocity of an enraged beast at bay. Never- 
theless, he spoke slowly and almost calmly. He did not 
have much to say. He made no threats or gestures. 

He said he had listened to what the Great Father had 
ordered. It was the dearest wish of him and his people to 
try to do what the Great Father desired, for they knew they 
were helpless in his hands. But now the Great Father was 
telling them to do what they could not do — to try to march 
to the Indian Territory in such weather. Many would be 
sure to perish on the way, and those who reached ihe reser- 
vation would soon fall victims to the fevers that had al- 



Campfire Stories of Indian Character 557 

ready brought mourning into nearly all their lodges. If, 
then, the Great Father wished them to die — very well, 
only they would die where they then were, if necessary by 
their own hands. They would not return to the south, and 
they would not leave their barrack prison. 

Captain Wessells knew that Dull Knife's complaint was 
well founded. Still, bound by the rigid rules of the servdce, 
be had absolutely no latitude whatever. He therefore 
directed the interpreter to explain to Dull Knife that the 
orders were imperative and must be obeyed, and to assure 
him that the cavalry escort would do all in their power to 
save the Indians from any unnecessary hardship on the 
journey. 

Dull Knife, however, remained firm, and his companions, 
when appealed to, only growled a brief assent to Dull 
Knife's views. 

"Then, Interpreter," said Wessells, "tell them their 
food and fuel will be stopped entirely until they conclude 
to come peaceably out of their barrack, ready to march 
south as ordered." 

The three chiefs silently heard their sentence, and were 
then quickly marched back to their barrack prison by a file 
of soldiers. 

All this occurred shortly after "guard mount" in the 
morning. 

Apart from its inhumanity, Wessells's order was bad 
policy. -^ Hunger drives the most cowardly to violence. 
Then, to add to the wretched plight of the Indians, ihe^ were 
all but naked. No clothing had been issued to them 
since their capture, and they were clad only in tattered 
blankets and fragments of tent cloth. Requisitions for 
clothing had been sent to the Indian Bureau, but none had 
come. 

Thus, half naked, without food or fires, these miserable 



558 The Book of Woodcraft 

people starved and shivered for five days and nights, but 
with no thought of surrender! 

Captain Wessells sent the interpreter to propose that the 
children be removed and fed, but this they refused; they 
said they preferred to die together. 

For five days and nights the barrack rang with shrill, 
terrible death chants. It was clear that they had resolved 
to die, and weakening fast indeed they were under the 
rigors of cold and hunger, weakening in all but spirit. 

The morning of the ninth of January, the fifth day of 
their compulsory fast. Captain Wessells again summoned 
Dull Knife, Old Crow, and Wild Hog to a council. 

Only the two latter came. 

Suspecting violence, the Indians refused to let their old 
chief leave the barrack. 

Asked if they were ready to surrender. Wild Hog replied 
that they would die first. 

The two chiefs were then ordered seized and ironed. In 
the struggle Wild Hog succeeded in seriously stabbing 
Private Ferguson of Troop A, and sounded his war cry as an 
alarm to his people. 

Instantly pandemonium broke loose in the Indian bar- 
rack. 

They realized the end was at hand. 

The war songs of the warriors rang loudly above the 
shrill death chants of the squaws. 

Windows and doors were quickly barricaded. 

The floor of the barrack was torn up and rifle-pits were 
dug beneath it. 

Stoves and flooring were broken into convenient shapes 
for use as war clubs. 

The twenty-odd rifles and pistols which had been 
smuggled into the barrack, by slinging them about the 
waists of the squaws beneath their blankets, at the time of 



Campfire Stories of Indian Character 559 

the capture, were soon brought from their hiding place 
and loaded. 

They expected an immediate attack, but none came. 

And all day long the garrison was kept under arms, 
ready for any sortie by the Indians. 

Night at last came, and, notwithstanding the terrible 
warnings of the day, no extraordinary precautions were 
taken, A guard of only seventeen men were under arms, 
and of these only a few were on post about this barrack full 
of maddened savages. 

All but Captain Wessells were so certain of a desperate 
outbreak that night that Lieutenant Baxter and several 
other officers sat fully dressed and armed in their quarters, 
awaiting the first alarm, 

"Taps" sounded at nine o'clock, the barracks were soon 
darkened, and the troopers retired. 

Only a few lights burned in the ofiicers' quarters and 
at the trader's store. 

The night was still and fearfully cold, the earth hid 
by the snow. 

Ten o'clock came, and just as the "all's well" was pass- 
ing from one sentry to another, a buck fired through a 
window and killed a sentry, jumped through the window 
and got the sentry's carbine and belt, and sprang back into 
the barrack. Then two or three bucks ran out of the west 
door, where they quickly shot down Corporal Pulver and 
Private Hulz, both of Troop A, and Private Tommeny, of 
Troop E. 

At doors and windows the barrack now emptied its 
horde of desperate captives, maddened by injustice and wild 
from hunger. Nevertheless, they acted with method and 
generalship, and with heroism worthy of the noblest men 
of any race. 

The bucks armed with firearms were the first to leave the 



56o The Book of Woodcraft 

barrack. These formed in line in front of the barrack and 
opened fire on the guardhouse and upon the troopers as 
they came pouring out of neighboring barracks. Thus 
they held the garrison in check imtil the women and 
children and the old and infirm were in full flight. 

Taken completely by surprise, the troops, nevertheless, 
did fearfully effective work. Captain Wessells soon had 
them out, and not a few entered into the fight and pursuit 
clad in nothing but their underclothing, hatless and shoe- 
less. 

The fugitives took the road to the sawmill crossing of 
White River, only a few hundred yards distant from their 
barracks, crossed the White River, and started southwest 
toward my ranch, where they evidently expected to mount 
themselves out of my herd of cow ponies, for they carried 
with them all their lariats, saddles, and bridles to this point. 
Here, pressed hopelessly close by the troops, their gallant 
rear-guard melting fast before the volleys of the pursuers, 
the Indians dropped their horse equipments, turned, and 
recrossed White River, and headed for the high, precipitous 
divide between Soldier Creek and White River, two miles 
nearer their then position than the cliffs about my ranch. 
They knew their only chance lay in quickly reaching hills 
inaccessible to cavalry. 

All history affords no record of a more heroic, forlorn 
hope than this Cheyenne sortie. 

Had the bucks gone alone, many would surely have es- 
caped, but they resolved to die together and to protect their 
women and children to the last. 

Thus more than half their fighting men fell in the first half 
mile of this flying fight. And as the warriors fell, their 
arms were seized by the squaws and boys, who wielded them 
as best they could! 

In the gloom of night the soldiers could not distinguish a 



Campfire Stories of Indian Character S^i 

squaw from a buck. Lieutenant Cummings fell into % 
washout near the sawmill nearly atop of two Indians. 
They attacked him with knives, but he succeeded in killing 
both with his pistol — only to find that they were squaws ! 

The struggle was often hand-to-hand, and many of the 
dead were powder-burned. For a long distance the trail 
was strewn thick with bodies 

A sergeant and several men were pursuing two isolated 
fugitives who proved to be a buck and squaw. Suddenly 
the two fugitives turned and charged their pursuers, the 
buck armed with a pistol, the squaw with a piece of an iron 
stove! They were shot down. 

This running fight afoot continued for nearly a mile, 
when the troops, many of them already badly frozen, were 
hurried back to the garrison to get needed clothing and their 
mounts. 

[E. B. Bronson, who tells the tale, was in his ranch five 
miles away that night but the sound of firing at ten 
o'clock caused him to mount horse and hurry to the Fort 
with a friend.] 

Presently, nearing the narrow fringe of timber that lined 
the stream, we could see ahead of us a broad, dark line 
dividing the snow: it was the trail of pursued and pursuers 
— the line of flight. Come to it, we halted. 

There at our feet, grim and stark and terrible in the 
moonlight, lay the dead and wounded, so thick for a long 
way that one could leap from one body to another; there 
they lay grim and stark, soldiers and Indians, the latter 
lean and gaunt as wolves from starvation, awful with their 
wounds, infinitely pathetic on this bitter night in their 
ragged, half -clothed nakedness. 

We started to ride across the trail, when in a fallen buck I 



562 The Book of Woodcraft 

happened to notice I recognized Buffalo Hump, Dull 
Knife's son. 

He lay on his back, with arms extenaed and face up- 
turned. In his right hand he held a small knife, a knife worn 
by years and years of use from the useful proportions of a 
butcher knife until the blade was no more than one quarter 
of an inch wide at the hilt, a knife descended to domestic 
use by the squaws as an awl in sewing moccasins, and yet 
the only weapon this magnificent warrior could command 
in this his last fight for freedom ! 

As I sat on my horse looking down at Buffalo Hump, 
believing him dead, the picture rose in my mind of the 
council in which he had stalked from end to end of the 
barrack, burning with an anger and hatred which threat- 
ened even then and there to break out into violence, when 
suddenly he rose to a sitting position and aimed a fierce 
blow at my leg with his knife. Instinctively, as he rose, I 
spurred my horse out of his reach and jerked my pistol, 
but before I could use it he fell back and lay still — dead. 

So died Buffalo Hump, a warrior capable, with half a 
chance, of making martial history worthy even of his 
doughty old father. 



Immediately on hearing the fire, Vroom, at Camp Canby, 
had thrown two troops in skirmish order across the valley to 
prevent escape to the east, and hurried into Robinson him- 
self at the head of a third troop. 

Already mounted, Vroom was the first to overtake and 
re-engage the flying Cheyennes, whose knowledge of the 
geography of the country proved remarkable. They had 
selected a high bluff two miles west of the post as their 
means of escape, its summit inaccessible to horsemen for 
more than six miles from the point of their ascent. 



Campfire Stories of Indian Qiaracter 563 

Almost daily for months had I ridden beneath this bluff 
and would readily have sworn not even a mountain goat 
could ascend to its summit; but, hidden away in an angle of 
the cliff lay a slope accessible to footmen, and this the 
Indians knew and sought. 

Just below this slope Vroom brought the rear guard to 
bay, and a brief, desperate engagement was fought. The 
Indians succeeded in holding the troops in check until all 
but those fallen under the fire of Vroom's command were 
able to reach the summit. 

Here on this slope, fighting in the front ranks of the rear 
guard, the "Princess," Dull Knife's youngest daughter, was 
kiUed! 

Further pursuit until daylight being impossible, the 
troopers were marched back into the garrison. 

By daylight the hospital was filled with wounded Indians, 
and thirty-odd dead — bucks, squaws, and children — lay 
in a row by the roadside near the sawmill, and there later 
they were buried in a common trench. 

At dawn of the tenth. Captain Wessells led out four troops 
of cavalry, and, after a couple of hours' scouting, found that 
the Indians had followed for ten miles the summit of the 
high divide between White River and Soldier Creek, travel- 
ing straight away westward, and then had descended to the 
narrow valley of Soldier Creek, up which the trail lay plain 
to follow through the snow as a beaten road. 

Along this trail Captain Vroom led the column at the 
head of his troop. Next behind him rode Lieut. George A. 
Dodd, then a youngster not long out of West Point, and 
later for many years recognized as the crack cavalry 
captain of the army. Next behind Dodd I rode. 

Ahead of the column a hundred yards rode Woman's 
Dress, a Sioux scout. 

For seventeen miles from the post the trail showed that 



564 The Book of Woodcraft 

the fugitives had made no halt! A marvelous march on 
such a bitter night for a lot of men, women, and children 
many of them wounded, all half clad and practically starved 
for five days! 

Presently the trail wound round the foot of a high, steep 
hill, the crest of which was covered with fallen timber, a 
hill so steep the column was broken into single file to pass 
it. Here the trail could be seen winding on through the 
snow over another hill a half mile ahead. 

Thus an ambush was the last thing expected, but, after 
passing the crest of the second hill, the Indians had made a 
wide detour to the north, gained the fallen timber on the 
crest of this first hill, and had there entrenched themselves. 

So it happened that at the moment the head of Vroom's 
column came immediately beneath their entrenchment, the 
Cheyennes opened fire at short range, emptied two or three 
saddles, and naturally and rightly enough stampeded the 
leading troop into the brush ahead of and back of the hill, 
for it was no place to stand and make a fight. 

******* 

Nothing remained but to make a run for the brush, and a 
good run he made of it, but, encumbered with a buffalo 
overcoat and labouring through the heavy snow, he soon got 
winded and dropped a moment for rest behind the futile 
shelter of a sage bush. 

Meantime, the troopers had reached the timber, dis- 
mounted, taken positions behind trees, and were pouring into 
the Indian stronghold a fire so heavy that Dodd was soon 
able to make another run and escape to the timber unscathed. 
******* 

The Indian stronghold on the hilltop was soon sur- 
rounded and held under a desultory long-range fire all day, 
as the position was one impregnable to a charge. 



Campfire Stories of Indian Qiaracter 565 

No packs or rations having been brought, at nightfall 
Captain Wessells built decoy campfires about the Indians' 
position and marched the command back into the garrison. 



He told me Lieutenant Baxter, with a detachment of ten 
men, had located, on the slope of a bluff a mile east of the 
Deadman Ranch, a camp of Indians which he believed 
represented a large band of hostiles still loose. 

Pointing to a spur of the bluffs, three or four hundred feet 
high, standing well out into the valley a scant mile east of 
my ranch, the trooper hurried on in to the garrison for 
reinforcements, and I spurred away for the bluff, and 
soon could see a Hne of dismounted troopers strung along 
the crest of the ridge. 

As I rode up to the foot of the bluff, skirmish firing began 
on top of the ridge. 

After running my horse as far up the hill as its precipi- 
tous nature would permit, I started afoot climbing for the 
crest, but, finding it inaccessible at that point, started 
around the face of the bluff to the east to find a practicable 
line of ascent, when suddenly I was startled to hear the 
ominous, shrill buzz of rifle balls just above my head, from 
the skirmish hne on the crest of the ridge — startled, indeed, 
for I had supposed the Indians to be on the crest of the blufif, 
farther to the south. 

Dropping behind a tree and looking downhill, I saw a 
faint curl of smoke rising from a Httle washout one hundred 
yards below me, and, crouched beside the smouldering fire 
in the washout, a lone Indian. 

This warrior's fight and death was characteristic of the 
magnificent spirit which had inspired the band, from the 
beginning of the campaign at Fort Reno. 

In mid-afternoon, scouting to the south of the garrison 



S66 The Book of Woodcraft 

for trails, Lieutenant Baxter had discovered this campfire, 
and, quite naturally assuming that none but a consider- 
able band of the Indians would venture upon building a 
campfire so near to the garrison, had immediately sent a 
trooper courier into the garrison with advice of his dis- 
covery. 

Then he dismounted his command and approached the 
campfire in open skirmish order, until it was plain to be 
seen that the fire was deserted. The trail of a single Indian 
led into the washout, and imprints in the snow showed where 
he had sat, evidently for some hours, beside the fire. But 
of the washout's fugitive tenant no trace could be found, 
no trail showing his route of departure. In one direction 
along a sharp ridge leading toward the hogback's crest, 
the snow was blown away, the ground bare, and this 
seemed to be his natural line of flight from Baxter's 
detachment. 

After what all believed a thorough search of the vicinity 
of the fire, Lieutenant Baxter left Corporal Everett and a 
trooper near the fire, and, remounting, led the balance of 
his men up the slope with the view to cut the Cheyenne's 
trail wheresoever it might again enter the snow. 

Baxter was gone barely ten minutes when he was startled 
by two rifle shots in his rear, from the vicinity of the fire ! 
Looking back, he saw his two troopers prostrate in the 
snow, and later learned that Everett and his mate, while 
stamping about to keep warm, had approached a little 
shallow washout within thirty yards of the fire that all 
vowed they had looked into, and suddenly had discovered 
the Indian lying at its bottom, wrapped in a length of dirty 
old canvas the precise color of the gray clay soil which 
doubtless had served to conceal him through the earlier 
search. The moment the Indian made sure he was dis- 
covered, he cast open his canvas wrap and fired twice with 



Campfire Stories of Indian Character 567 

a carbine, shooting Corporal Everett through the stomach 
and killing him almost instantly, and seriously wounding 
his mate. 

Thus rudely taught that humanity was useless, and that 
it must be a fight to the death, observing "Papa" Lawson 
approaching from the fort at the head of his troop, Baxter 
swung his own men up and along the top of the ridge, where 
they could better command the old Cheyenne's position, 
and opened on him a heavy fire — and it was just at this 
juncture I arrived. 

Immediately after I first sighted the Indian, "Papa" 
Lawson swung around the foot of the hill with his troop, 
dismounted, and charged up on foot — thus making sixty 
men concentrated upon one! 

The old Cheyenne kept up his rapid fire as long as he 
could. Toward the last I plainly saw him fire his carbine 
three times with his left hand, resting the barrel along the 
edge of the washout, while his right hand hung helpless 
beside him. 

Suddenly I saw him drop down in the bottom of the wash- 
out, limp as an empty sack. 

When we came up to him it appeared that while the shot 
that killed him had entered the top of his head, he neverthe- 
less earlier in the engagement had been hit four times — 
once through the right shoulder, once through the left 
cheek, once in the right side, and a fourth ball toward the 
last had completely shattered his right wrist. 

It was apparent that he had been making a desperate 
break to reach my horses, which usually ran in the very 
next canyon to the west, for he still carried with him a lariat 
and bridle; but his unprotected feet had been so badly 
frozen during the night that he had become entirely unable 
to travel farther, and, realizing himself to be utterly help- 
less, in sheer desperation had built a fire to get what poor. 



S68 The Book of Woodcraff 

miserable comfort he could for the few minutes or hours 
remaining to himl 

A curious incident here followed. 

An ambulance had come with Lawson's troop to the fields 
in which the body of Everett and his wounded mate were 
placed, while the body of the dead Cheyenne was thrown 
into the boot at the back of the conveyance. Upon ar- 
rival in the garrison, Lieutenant Baxter discovered that the 
body of the Indian had been lost out of the boot on the short 
four-mile journey into Robinson, and sent back a sergeant 
and detail of men to recover it. But the most careful 
search along the trail failed to reveal any trace of the body, 
and whatever became of it to this day remains a mystery. 

On the night of the tenth, fifty- two Indians had been 
captured, approximately half of them more or less badly 
wounded, and thirty-seven were known to have been killed, 
leaving a total of sixty unaccounted for. 

Still without food, on the morning of the eleventh, the 
seventh day of their fast, and unable to march farther, Cap- 
tain Wessells's column found the fugitives occupying a strong 
position in the thick timber along Soldier Creek at the foot 
of the hill upon which they had been entrenched the day 
before, better sheltered from the severity of the weather. 

Again long-range firing was the order of the day, for a 
charge would have incurred needless hazard. 

During this day the Indians succeeded in killing a troop 
horse on an exposed hillside within three or four hundred 
yards of their position. The rider narrowly escaped with 
his life. 

The ground where the horse fell was so openly exposed, 
the carcass had to be left where it had fallen, and that 
night, after Captain Wessells had again marched his com- 
mand back to the garrison, the carcass furnished the first 
food these poor wretches had eaten for seven days! 



Campfire Stories of Indian Giaracter 569 

That their hearts were firm as ever and that all they 
needed was a little physical strength the next few days 
eflfectually proved. 

The twelfth they lay eating and resting, and when on the 
thirteenth, Wessells's column returned to the attack, the 
Indians were found six miles farther to the west, well 
entrenched on the Hat Creek Bluffs, and there again 
an ambush was encountered in which two troopers were 
wounded. 

On this day a twelve-pound Napoleon gun was brought 
into action, and forty rounds of shell were thrown into the 
Indians' position, without dislodging them. 

The same day Captain Wessells and Lieutenants Craw- 
ford and Hardie crept near the rifle-pits with an inter- 
preter and called to the Cheyennes to bring out their women 
and children, promising them shelter and protection. A 
feeble volley was the only reply ! 

Realizing the Indians had now reached a cattle country 
in which they could kill meat and subsist themselves, Cap- 
tain Wessells had brought out a pack-train, with blankets 
and rations, to enable him to surround the Indians' posi- 
tion at night, and, should they slip away, to camp on their 
trail. 

This night they were surrounded, but at dawn on the 
fourteenth, Lieutenant Crawford discovered the wily enemy 
had again slipped through the picket lines, headed south- 
westward along the high blufifs which Uned the southern 
edge of Hat Creek Basin. 

For six days more the same tactics on both sides pre- 
vailed ; the Indians were daily followed in running fight, or 
brought to bay in strong positions practically impregnable 
of direct attack, surrounded at nightfall, only to glide away 
like veritable shadows during the night, and of course more 
or less were killed in these daily engagements. 



57^ The Book of Woodcraft 

On the twentieth, Captain Wessells's command was joined 
by Lieutenant Dodd and a large band of Sioux scouts. 

Tuesday, the twenty-first (January, 1879), saw the finish. 

At a point on the Hat Creek Bluffs, near the head of War 
Bonnet Creek, forty-four miles a little to the south of west 
of Fort Robinson, the Cheyennes lay at bay in their last 
entrenchment, worn out with travel and fighting, and with 
scarcely any ammunition left. 

They were in a washout about fifty feet long, twelve feet 
wide, and five feet deep ; near the edge of the bluffs. 

Skirmishers were thrown out beneath them on the slope 
of the bluff to prevent their escape in that direction, and 
then Captain Wessells advanced on the washout, with his 
men formed in open skirmish order. 

A summons through the interpreter to surrender was 
answered by a few scattering shots from the washout. 

Converging on the washout in this charge, the troopers 
soon were advancing in such a dense body that nothing 
saved them from terrible slaughter but the exhaustion of the 
Cheyennes' ammunition. 

Charging to the edge of the pit, the troopers emptied their 
carbiiies into it, sprang back to reload, and then came on 
again, while above the crash of the rifles arose the hoarse 
death chants of the expiring band. 

The last three warriors alive — and God knows they de- 
serve the name of warriors if ever men deserved it — sprang 
out of their defences, one armed with an empty pistol and 
two with knives, and madly charged the troops! 

Three men charged three hundred ! 

They fell, shot to pieces Hke men fallen under platoon fire. 

And then the fight was over. 

The little washout was a shambles, whence the troops 
removed twenty-two dead and nine living, and of the living 
all but two (women) were badly wounded! 



Campfire Stories of Indian Qiaracter 57 1 

These were all that remained out of the sixty unaccounted 
for after the fighting near Fort Robinson, excepting five 
or six bucks, among them Chief Dull Knife, who had been 
cut off from the main band in the first night's fight and had 
escaped to the Sioux. 

And among the Ogallala Sioux thereafter, till he died, 
dwelt Dull Knife, grim and silent as Sphinx or dumb man; 
brooding his wrongs; cursing the fate that had denied him 
the privilege to die fighting with his people; sitting alone 
daily for hours on the crest of a Wounded Knee bluff rising 
near his teepee, and gazing longingly across the wide 
reaches of the Bad Lands to a faint blue line, on the north- 
western horizon, that marked his old highland home in the 
Black HiUs. 



572 The Book of Woodcraft 



The Message of the Indian 



The message of the Indian for us is sixfold: 

I St. He was the great prophet of outdoor life. He was 
strong when he lived in the sun; and when, under pressure, 
he took to a house, he was hke Samson shorn of his hair. 
By the physical perfection of his body, he showed the truth 
of his way. He was a living protest against house-life. 
He, above all others, can show us how to get the joys, and 
escape the dangers, of life in the open air. 

2nd. He was a master of woodcraft — woodcraft, the 
oldest of all the sciences; the one, that, above all, makes for 
manhood. Strength, speed, skill, courage, knowledge of the 
woods and its creatures, star-wisdom, water-wisdom, plant 
lore, and everything that makes for the well-built man in 
masterful touch with a large environment of blue air, is part 
of woodcraft. And in this above all other men, the Indian 
can be our guide. 

3rd. He taught the sacred duty of reverencing, beautify- 
ing and perfecting the body. 

4th. He sought for the beautiful in everything. He 
teaches us that, if we have the spirit of beauty within, we 
may beautify everything in every office and walk of our 
lives. Every weapon, tool, utensil, garment and house; 
yes, every gesture — he has taught us how to make beau- 
tiful. His songs, stories, dances, ceremonies, his system of 



The Message of the Indian 573 

etiquette and courtesy, were expressions in his daily life 
that proved his mind; and in the making of beautiful tents, 
blankets, baskets and canoes, he has easily led the world. 
These things were mere expressions of his broad creed that 
the Great Spirit is in everything, everywhere, all the time. 

5th. He solved one great economic problem that vexes us 
to-day. By his Hfe and tribal constitution, he has shown 
us that the nationalization of all natural resources and 
national interests puts a stop at once equally to abject 
poverty and to monstrous wealth. 

6 th. He was the world's great historic protest against 
avarice. Under various euphonious names we encour- 
age greed as a safeguard against destitution. He 
showed that it has no bearing on the case and that it 
unavoidably ends in measureless crimie: 

That seems to be the sixfold message of the Indian; but 
there is also a thought that will not down, as one reads these 
chronicles of a trampled race. 

The law of this land gives every one the right to think and 
decide for himself, so long as he does not infringe on the 
rights of others. No man may compel the conscience of 
another, except that other he a soldier or a marine. When a 
man joins army or navy, he must leave his conscience be- 
hind. That is the law. Why? Because those in the high 
place of authority know so well that the soldier or sailor, 
going to the front and seeing with his own eyes the abomi- 
nations and human tortures that warfare really means, 
would be so horror-stricken that he would recoil as from a 
very hell. He would refuse to be a party to such unspeak- 
able atrocities, and so army and navy, yes, the whole sys- 
tem back of it, would crimible. 

No, sir, discipline must be maintained. The soldier and 
sailor must leave his conscience at home and do as he is 



574 The Book of Woodcraft 

told, stifling the voice within that tells him he is espousing 
the cause of Jezebel, Herod and Moloch, and pledging his 
manhood to the service of hell. 

When General Crook set off in deep winter to hound the 
Dakota patriots to their death, and to slaughter their 
women and babies, he admitted, as we have seen, that 
it was a hard campaign to go on. "But," he added, 
"the hardest thing is to go and fight those whom we 
know are right. " 

Then why did he go? 

If Crook had been ordered by the War Department to 
nail the Saviour to the Cross, I suppose he would have done 
it, and wept as he obeyed; or, under orders of Herod, he 
would have slaughtered the babes of Bethlehem as expedi- 
tiously as his broken heart would have allowed. The 
British general who led his troops against China, probably 
all against his better judgment, and there, by force and 
bloodshed, established the diabolical opium trafiic, obeyed 
his government, indeed, and gained some money for his 
country's merchants. But he made an awful day of 
reckoning for himself and for his race. 

When the French army decided that it was wise to 
sacrifice innocent Dreyfus for the cause of patriotism, they 
set the army above justice and their country in a higher 
place than God. And thus struck France a blow from 
which she never yet has recovered — we cannot tell — 
maybe a death-blow. 

Most men agree with the Indian that courage is one of 
the greatest, if not the greatest, of virtues. How many of 
them dare live up to this beHef? To most men, in some 
measure, there comes a time when they must decide between 
their duty to country and their duty to God. How many 
dare take the one course that they know to be right? Are 
there no times when man's allegiance to high principle must 



The Message of the Indian 575 

override his allegiance to constituted authority? No? 
Then, how do you justify 1776? And the martyrs, from 
Socrates, seditious preacher of the truth, right down to men 
of our own times; were they all wrong? All set their God 
above their country's laws, and suffered cruel, shameful 
deaths. 

If they did not teach us by their lives and deaths that 
justice and truth are above every consideration of one's 
country and its laws, then Socrates, St. Peter, St. Stephen, 
St. Paul, St. John, Becket, Huss, Coligny, Latimer, Ridley, 
Cranmer — yes, the Lord Himself — all lived and died io 
vain. 



THE END 



INDEX 



INDEX 



PAGE 

Abele 363 

Abies balsamea 34S 

Acer pennsyhanicum 440 

Acer spicatum 441 

A cer nigrum 442 

Acer saccharinum 443 

Acer saccharum 44a 

Acer rubrutn 444 

Acer Negundo 446 

Acacia, Three-thorned 432 

Aceraceae — Maple Family . . . . 440 

Agaricus campestris 318 

i4isculaceae — Buckeye Family . . . 447 

yEsculus glabra 447 

Msculiis octandra 448 

/Esculus Bippocastanum 449 

Ague Tree 420 

Aix sponsa (Illus.) 2SS 

Aldebaran 123 

Alder (Illus.) 231 

Alder, Smooth 383 

Alder, Tag 383 

Alnus serrulata 383 

Alder, Mountain 383 

Alnus marilima 384 

Alder, Speckled 384 

Alnus glutinosa 384 

Alnus incana 384 

Alnus alnobetula 383 

Alder, European 384 

Alder, Seaside 384 

Allspice, Wild 419 

Alligator Tree 424 

Alphabet, Manual (Dlus.) .... 150 

Altingiaces — Sweet Gum Family . . 424 

Amanita, Big-veiled 310 

Amanita Ccuarea 313 

Amanita Casarea 313 

Amanita Excetsa 313 

Amanita, Fly (Illus.) 312,313 

Amanita, frostiana 313 

Amanita Frost's 313 

Amanita, Hated 312 

Amanita muscaria 313 

Amanita, Napkin 311 

Amanita, phalloides (Illus.)' . . 310,311 

Amanita spreta 312 

Amanita, Spring 310 

Amanita Toadstools 310 

Amanita, Virulent 310 

Amygdalacese — Plum Family . . . 427 

Anacardiaceae — Sumac Family . . . 435 

Anas platyrhynchos (Illus.) .... 254 

Anchor Bend Knot (Illus.) .... 100 

Animal Story Books 88 

Animal Taxidermy 281 



PAGE 

Animals, To Trap (Illus.) .... 285 

Antiseptic or Wound Wash. . . . 32s 

Ants as Food 243 

Apache Heroism S4i 

Apache Indians' Case 537 

Apache Relay Race . .... 217 

Aquila Chrysa-tos 250 

Arbor-Vitae 348 

Archery 502 

Archery, Arrows Showing Different 

Feathering (Illus.) 504 

Archery, Holding and Drawing Bow 

(Illus.) S04, SOS 

Archery, Method of Stringing Bow 

(Illus.) 504 

Arcturus 121 

Ardea herodias 257 

Arriving on Camp Ground . ... 179 

Arrow Fight Game 20^ 

Arrows, Showing Different Feathering 

(Illus.) so< 

Arrow-wood 45a 

Arrow-wood, Maple-leaved .... 464 

Arrow-wood 465 

Arrow-wood, for Making Arrows . . 505 

Art of the Indian 478 

Artisan, The Indian as an . . . . 12 

Ash, Black 460 

Ash, Blue 459 

Ash, Green 456 

Ash, Hoop 460 

Ash, Red 456 

Ash, Water 458, 460 

Ash, White 455 

Asp, Quaking 357 

Aspen, Large-Toothed 3S9 

Assistant Chief in Charge . ... 180 

Atkinson, G. F 326 

Avarice Unknown to Indian ... 56 

Awashonks, the Woman Chief ... 40 

Balm of Gilead 361 

Balsam, Canada 345 

Balsam Tree 345 

Badger Pulling Game 214 

Bailey, Florence Merriam .... 268 

Baker, Brevet Col. E. M 15 

Baker's Massacre 15 

Bald Eagle (Illus.) 250, 251 

Balm for Wounds 224 

Bark and Buds as Food 24s 

Baskets, Wattap for 339 

Basswood 450 

Basswood, Southern 450 

Basswood Whistle, To Make . . . 450 

Bates, Dr. W. H 235 



579 



580 



Index 



7AGS 

Bath, Indian 334 

Bay, Sweet 4i7 

Bay Tree, White 4i7 

Bear Claw Necklace (lUus.) ... 203 

Bear Hunt aoa 

Bear's Head, Chief iS 

Beaver Tree 4^7 

Becket Hitch loi 

Bee Tree 43° 

Bed, Indian or Willow (Illus.) . . 49S-499 

Beds (Illus.) 18s 

Beech 404 

Beech, Blue 38s 

Beech, Water 38S 

Beetle-wood 384 

Bellatrix 123 

Benjamin Bush 4i9 

Benzoin odoriferum 4i9 

Betelgeuse 123 

Belula lenta 38a 

Betula lutea 381 

Betula nigra 380 

Belula papyrifera 378 

Betula populifolia 377 

Betulaceae— Birch Family .... 377 

Big Thunder, Penobscot Chief . . S°S 

Big Thunder's Arrow Grip (Illus.) . . 5o7 

Bilsted 424 

Birch, Aspen-Leaved 377 

Binder Knot 100 

Birch, Black 381 

Birch, Canoe 378 

Birch, Cherry 382 

Birch, Gray 377, 381 

Birch, Mahogany 382 

Birch, Paper 378 

Birch, Red 380 

Birch, River 380 

Birch, Sweet 382 

Birch, White 378 

Birch, Woodmen's Use of ... . 379 

Birch, Yellow 381 

Birch-bark Baskets 98 

Birch-bark Boxes 98 

Birch-bark Canoes 379 

Bird Books Recommended .... 268 

Bird Boxes or Houses (Illus.) . . . io3 

Bird Dance Song 66 

Bird Skin, Making a 26Q 

Bird Stuffing (Illus.) 268 

Birds, Common 250 

Bittern (Illus.) 2S7 

Bitternut 37° 

Black Dye 50' 

Black Hawk 29 

Black Paint 500 

Blackbird, Crow (lUus.) 262 

Blackfeet, Medicine Tree of the . . 166 

Blac'doot, Chief White Calf . . . S3i 

Blackwall Hitch loi 

Blackthorn 466 

Blanchan, Neltje 268 

Blades and Indian Signs (Illus.) 161 
Blazes of Hunters and Surveyors 

alius.) 162 

Bleeding, Internal 222 

Bleeding, To Stop 335 



VAM 

Elitum or Mis-caw-wa 501 

Bluebird (Illus.) 267 

Blue Heron (Illus.) as7 

Blue jay (Illus.) a6x 

Blue Paint 500 

Boat Building (Illus.) 140 

Bobolink or Rcedbird (Ulus.) . . . a6i 

Bodarc 414 

Bois D'Arc 414 

Boletus Mushrooms 324 

Bonasa umbellus 258 

Bonfire 190 

Bongay 449 

Bonneville, on Indian Nobleness . S4f 5*9 

Bootes 120 

Bootes Hunting the Great Bear (Elus.) 121 

Bore Plant 461 

Botaurus lengtiginosus 257 

Bourke, Capt. J. G 20,46,52,537 

Bow and Arrows (Illus.) .... 504 
Bow Holding and Drawing (Illus.) 504, 505 

Bow, How to Make a 503 

Bow-Wood 41A 

Bowel Complaint 22S 

Bowel Tonic 225 

Bowline Knot 100 

Box Llder 446 

Bo.xwood 4sa 

Boys in Catskills 3 

Bran/a canadensis ...... 256 

Bravery of the Indian 28 

Brinton, on Indian Physique ... 49 

Bronson, E. B 548 

Broom, Camp (Illus.) 139 

Brown, Major 540 

Brunner, Joseph 306 

Bubo virginianus 252 

Buckeye, Big 448 

Buckeye, Fetid 447 

Buckeye, Ohio 447 

Buckeye, Yellow Sweet 448 

Buffalo Chips Game 214 

Bull-fighter in the Sky 122 

Bums and Scalds 222 

Buleo Borealis 250 

Butternut 367 

Buttonball or Buttonwood .... 42s 
Buttons, Woodcraft (Ulus.). . . 252, 253 

Buzzard (Ulus.) 252, 253 

Caesalpinacese— Senna Family . . . 431 

Calkins, F. W 516 

Calvatia cranliformis 32a 

Calvatia cyathiformis 323 

Calvatia gigantea 32a 

Camp Broom (Ulus.) 139 

Camp Circle of the Gods .... lai 

Camp Cookery 192 

Camp Government 179 

Camp Ground 078 

Camp Ground, Arriving at ... . 179 

Camp Horn 142 

Camp Kitchen (Ulus.) 189 

Camp Lantern (Illus.) .... 133, 134 

Camp Life 4 

Camp Life, The Ideal 7 

Camp Loom and Grass Mats (Ulus.) . 13S 



Index 



S8i 



PAGE 

Campercraft 17a 

Campiire, Magic of the 4 

Campfire Stories S09 

Campfires, To Make (lUus.) ... 187 

Camp Officers i7g 

Camp Rake (Illus.) 138 

Camp Roaster (Illus.) 193 

Camp Routine Suggested ... 92, 187 

Camp, Summer 172 

Camping Out 172 

Camping Outfit for Each Woodcrafter 176 

Camping Outfit for Six 173 

Canadian Government Honorable with 

Indians 47 

Canis major 122 

Canis minor 122 

Canoe, the Indians' Gift to the 

World 379 

Canoe, Dugout 140 

Canoe Tag ao6 

Canoe VVood 40s 

Caprifoliacias — Honeysuckle Family . 461 

Caribou Dance 68 

Carpinus caroUniana 385 

Carrick Bend Knot loo 

Carrion Crow 252 

Carver, Jonathan 28, 20, 3r, 34, 36, 45, 48 

Cassiopeia (Illus.) 122 

Castanea dentaia 405 

Caslanca pumila 406 

Catbird (Illus.) 26s 

Cailiarles aura 252 

Catlin, George 20, 25, 26, 28, 32, 35, 37, 43. 

48,53 

Cat Tracks (Illus.) 303 

Cause of Indian Wars 46 

Cedar, Red 350 

Cedar, White 348 

Cedar, White Southern 349 

Cellis occidentalis 412 

Cercis canadensis 431 

Cetarria Icelandica (Illus.) . . . 24s, 246 

Clianuey parts thyoides 349 

Chapman, Frank M 268 

Character, Indian, Sumrnary of . . 55 

Charges Against the Indian ... 13 

Chastity of Indians 27 

Cherry, Elack (Illus.) .... 227, 428 

Cherry, Cabinet 428 

Cherry, Choke 427 

Cherry, Rum 428 

Chestnut 40s 

Cheyennes, How Corrupted ... 48 

Cheyennes' Last Fight 548 

Cheyennes Merciful 73 

Chicadee (HIus.) 266 

Chicken Fight Game 213 

Chicken Squawk 96 

Chief Bear's Head ...... is 

Chief Capilano of the Squamish 514 

Chief Dull Knife's Band .... 548 

Chief Hinmaton-Kalatkit .... 529 

Chief in Charge 180 

Chief Joseph of Nez Perc6s. . 10, $$, 528 

Chief Red Cloud 553 

Chills and Fever 225 

Chinese Writing I5S 



PACE 

Chinquapin 406 

Chivington Massacre 14 

Chuntz, Apache Chief 54° 

C inders or Sand in Eye 224 

Citronella 187 

Claiming Coups, Indian 483 

Clark, Capt. W. P 22, 26, 36 

Clavaria dichotoma 317 

Clavarai, Moose Horn (Illus.) . . . 321 
Clavaria, Red Tipped (lUus.) . . . 321 

Clavaria, White 317, 320 

Clean Fatherhood 514 

Cleanliness of the Indian . , . . 19 

Clirrath, or Poison Ivy 439 

Clitocybe, Deceiving (Illus.) . .315,316 
Ciitocybe illudcns (Illus.) . . . 315, 316 

Clock, Indian (Illus.) 132 

Clove Hitch loi 

Club, Straw (Illus.) 202 

Cock-fighting Game 213 

Code, Railway 169 

Colafte: cuiatus 259 

Cold, a Danger When Lost. . . . 240 

Cold or Fever Cure 325 

Colinus virgitiianus 258 

Columbus, on Indian Kindness . . 34 

Common Firds 250 

Com.pass, Home-made 132 

Competitive Principle in Education . 6 

Conscience of a Soldier 573 

Consumption Cured by Outdoor Liv- 
ing 3 

Coon Game 212 

Coona Song 66 

Coirinus atramentarius 319 

Coprinus, Inky (lUus.) 319 

Cord -pull Signals 170 

Cornelian Tree 452 

Coronado and the Indian .... 50 

Conius brack rhynchos 261 

Costurre, Indian (Illus.) .... 489 

Cottonwood 362 

Cough Remedy 22S 

Cough and Lung Remedy .... 228 
Cough and Irritated Throat . . . 228 

Council Fire (Illus.) 190 

Council Fire Circle 182 

Councils 184 

Coups, Claiming 483 

Courage 5° 

Courtesy of the Indian 40 

Crar berry, High Bush 463 

Cranberry Tree 463 

Crane, Flue (Illus.) 257 

Cratagus mollis 430 

Creed, The Indian's n 

Crook, Gen. George S16. 574 

Crow, Common 261 

Crow, Carrion 252 

Cucumber Tree 418 

Curtis, Dr. C. C 244 

Customs of the Indian n, 59 

Cuts and Wounds 223 

Cyanocitla cristaPi 260 

Cygnus 121 

Cynoxylon floridum 452 

Cypress, Bald 347 



582 



Index 



PAGE 

Dam, Making a (Illus.) . . . . 129 

Date Plum 454 

Deadly Amanita Toadstools . . . 310 

Death, Tests of 224 

Death Song 543 

Deathcup, Tall 313 

Deathcup Toadstool 310 

Deer, Burlap (Illus.) 199 

Deer Hunt (Illus.) 199 

Deer Tracks (Illus.) 306 

Deer, Wooden Legged (Illus.) . . . 200 

Dellenbaugh, F. S 38 

Destroying Angel Toastools . . . 310 

Diamond Necklace in the Sky . . . 121 

Dictionary of the Sign Language . . 148 

Diospyros virginiana 454 

Dipper 118 

Ditty Box 228 

Dock-makie 464 

Dodge, Col. R. 1 28, 46 

Dog and Cat Tracks (Illus.) . . . 288 

Dog Dance 272 

Dog Soldiers i8i 

Dog Tracks (Illus.) 30S 

Dogwood, Flowering (Illus.) . . 227, 45* 

Dolichonyx oryzivorus 261 

Dorsey, Prof. J. 26, 38 

Double Half Hitch loo 

Dove (Illus.) 258, 260 

Drake, Sam G 3° 

Drinks. 249 

Drowning, To Revive from. . . • 22I 

Drum, Indian (LUus.) 493 

Dry Socks 236 

Dryobates pubescens 259 

Duck, Mallard (Illus.) .... 254, 2S6 

Duck, Wood or Summer . . . 255, 356 

Dugmore, A. Radclyffe 2^8 

Dugout Canoe 14^ 

Dull Knife 10, 29, 55, 553 

Dull Knife's Band 548 

Dumatella carolinensis 265 

Dyes, Butternut 367 

Dyes, for Basket Making .... 339 

Dyes, Indian 5°^ 

Eagle 5° 

Eastman, Dr. Chas. A. . 23. 3°, 3i. 49. 5° 

Elder (Illus.) 229 

Elder, Red-berried 462 

Elder, Mountain 462 

Elder, Sweet 461 

Elderberry 461 

Elder-blow 461 

Elder 461 

Ebenaceae — Ebony Family .... 454 

Elder, Poison 438 

Elm, False 412 

Elm, Winged 4" 

Elm, Cork 410 

Elm, Hickory 410 

Elm, Cliff 4IO 

Elm, Rock 410 

Elm, Red 408 

Elm, Moose 408 

Elm, Slippery. ....... 408 

Elm, Swamp • 407 



PACK 

Elm, Water 407 

Elm, White . _ 407 

Endurance, Indian 49 

Entolomas, Fringed 317 

Ericsson, Leif 9 

Etiquette of Teepee 42 

Evening Star 128 

Eye, Cinders or Sand in 224 

Eyes, Keen 235 

Fabaceae — Pea Family 434 

Fagaceze — Beech Family .... 386 

Fagus grandijolia 404 

Fainting 223 

Face-ache 228 

False Reef or Granny Knot . . . loo 

Far Sight Game (Illus.) 208 

Fear, Danger When_Lost .... 240 

Feather Blow Game" 213 

Feather Dance 212 

Feather Football Game 213 

Ferret 112 

Fever Bush 419 

Fever Cure 225 

Fire in Teepee 473 

Fire with Rubbing-sticks (Illus.) . . 108 

Firearms ._ 191 

Fireside Trick with Fingers. . . . 102 

First Aid 221 

Fishermann's Knot 100 

Fislulina hepalica 320 

Fixed Loop Knot 100 

Flags, Weather (Illus.) .... 767, 1O8 

Flammarion 125, 128 

Flicker or Highhole (Illus.). . . 259,260 

Flowering Dogwood (Illus.) . . . 227 

Forestry 327 

Fork and Spoon 96, 99 

Fox Tracks (Illus.) 298 

Fox's Hunt, Tracks of (Mus.) . . . 301 

Franklin, Sir John 248 

Fraxinus americana 455 

Fraxinus caroliniana 458 

Fraxinus nigra 460 

Fraxinus pennsyhanica .... 456 

Fraxinus quadrangulala 459 

Fungi 307 

Furniture, Indian (HIus.) . 479, 480, 481 

Gallantry of Indians .... 39 

Games 

Arrow Fight 209 

Badger Pulling 214 

Bear Hunt 202 

Buffalo Chips 214 

Canoe Tag 206 

Cock-fighting 213 

Deer Hunt 199 

Feather Dance 212 

Feather Football 213 

Far Sight .208 

Home Star 208 

Hostile Spy 210 

Medley Scouting 218 

One-legged Chicken Fight . . . 213 

Pole Star 208 

Qtiick Sight 207 



Index 



5S3 



PAGE 

Rabbit Hunt 209 

Rat-on-his-lodge 21S 

Relay Race 217 

Scout Messenger 211 

Scouting 206 

Spearing the Great Sturgeon. . . 204 

Step on the Rattler 214 

Strong Hand 213 

Throwing the Spear 217 

Tilting in the Water 197 

Tilting Spears 196 

Trailing 216 

Tree the Coon 216 

Tub-tilting on Land 192 

Watching by the Trail .... 218 

Water Boiling 218 

Weasel in the Wood 217 

Game Laws of Indians 3° 

Games for the Camp 196 

Garangula's Game Laws .... 30 

Garland, Hamlin 72 

Gavia immer 252 

Gee-string Camp i43 

General or Common Council . . . 184 

General Scouting Indoors .... 96 

General Scouting Outdoors . . . 108 

Genesis (Omaha) S12 

Ghost Dance Prophet, Wovoka . . S34 

Ghost Dance Song 63 

Ghost Dance Teachings 535 

Glimpses of Indian Character . . . SoP 

Golden or War Eagle 250 

Golden Willow (lUus.) 226 

Goose, Canada, or Honker (Illus.). . 562 

Goose, Wild (Illus.) 256 

Government, Camp i79 

Grand Council 184 

Granny Knot 100 

Grass Mats and Camp Loom (Illus.) . i35 

Great Bear 119 

Great Dogster 122 

Great Pyramid 123 

Green Log Grate (Illus.) .... 189 
GrinneU, G. B. 16, 2,22,32,37 44, 49, 5" 

Grouse, Ruffed (Illus.) 35S 

Gum, Black 453 

Gum, Sour 453 

Gum, Star Leaved or Red .... 424 

Gum, Sweet . _ 424 

Cymnocladus dioica 433 

Hackberry 412 

Hackmatack 338 

Hairy Wolf's Teepee 475 

Ealiatos laucocephalus 250 

Hall, Dr. Winfield S 240 

Halter Knot 100 

Hamamelidaceae — Witch-Hazel Family 422 

Hamamelis virginiana 422 

Hand, Flag, and Lamp Signals. . . 169 

Hand Wrestling 213 

Handicraft Stunts 96 

Hard, M. E 320, 326 

Hardback 384 

Haw, Apple 430 

Haw, Black 467 

Haw, Scarlet 430 



PAGE 

Hawthorn 430 

Hazel Nut, Snapping 422 

Head Band (Illus.) 482 

Head-dress, Indian 483 

Hebcloma crustoliniforme . . . . 317 

Hebeloma, Pie-shaped 317 

Hemlock 343 

Hemorrhage, or Internal Bleeding. . 222 

Hen Hawk (Illus.) 250, 251 

Henry, Ale.xander .... 24, 27, 44 

Heroic Ideal, A 6 

Heron, Great Blue (Illus.) .... 257 

Hiawatha 10, 53, 77 

Hicoria alba 374 

Ilicoria aqualica 371 

Hicoria cordiformis 370 

Ilicoria glabra 375 

Ilicoria laciniosa 373 

Hicoria microcarpa 376 

Hicoria ovatu 372 

Hicoria Pecan 369 

Hickory, Big-Bud 374 

Hickory, Big Shellbark 373 

Hickory, King-Nut 373 

Hickory, Pignut 375 

Hickory, Shagbark 372 

Hickory, Shellbark 372 

Hickory, Small-Fruited 376 

Hickory, Swamp 370 

Hickory, Water 371 

Hickory, White 372 

Hickory, White Heart 374 

Hickories, Key to 368 

High Council 179, 184 

High Hikers, Horns of (Illus.) ... 182 

Highhole (Illus.) 259 

Hiking in the Snow no 

Hiritniro erythrogasler 264 

Home-made Compass 132 

Home Star Game 208 

Honor of the Indian 45 

Hoof Marks, Iron (Illus.) . ... 201 

Hornaday, W. T 281 

Horn for Camp 142 

Horns of the High Hikers (Illus.) . . 182 

Hornbeam, American 385 

Hornbeam, Hop 384 

Horse Chestnut 449 

Hostile Spy Game 210 

Hospitality of the Indian .... 36 

Howard, General 529 

Hummingbird, Ruby-throated . . . 259 

Humor of the Indian 31 

Hunger, a Danger when Lost . . 240 
Hunter, J. D.. . . 21, 29, 30, a, 43, 45 
Hunter s Lamp (Illus.) .... 133,134 

Hunting of Mishi-Mokwa .... 75 

Hunting the Deer (Illus.) .... 199 

Hurricane Warnings (Illus.) ... 168 

Hyades 12? 

Hylocichla mustelinus 266 

Iceland Moss 24=' 

Icterus galbula 262 

Ideal Camp Life, The 7 

Ideal Indian, The 8 

Ideograpby 155 



SS4 



Index 



VAGX 
ndian Bath or Sweat Lodge a34 

ndian, ("harges Against the . . .13-ao 

ndian Clock 13a 

ndian Costume (lUus.l .... 489 
ndian Drum (lUus.) . . '• 403 

ndian Dyes Soi 

ndian Furniture (lUus.) 479i 4^, 481 

ndian Game Laws 3° 

ndian Head Band (lUus.) .... 48* 

ndian Head-dress 483 

ndian. The Highest Type of Primi- 
tive Life '8 

ndian, The Ideal 9 

ndian. Message of the UTa 

ndian or Willow Bed (Illus.) . . 405-4Q9 

ndian Paints 499 

ndian Prayers 22, 24, sn 

ndian Runners 49 

ndian Scout Pictographs (Illus.) . . 156 

ndian Scouts 9. 57 

ndian Seats (Illus.) . . . 479. 480, 481 

ndian Sign Language i4S 

ndian Signs 166 

ndian Song Books 80 

ndian Songs 61 

Indian, The 

Indian Art 478 

As a Socialist 18, 55 

Bravery 28 

Character 55. 5=9 

Chastity a? 

Cheerfulness 31 

Courtesy 41 

Customs 11-59 

Endurance 49 

Gallantry 30 

Honor 45 

Hospitality 36 

Humor 31 

Industry 19 

Kindness 34 

Misjudged 10 

Nobleness 51 

Physique 49 

Politeness 41 

Prowess 29 

Religion ii 

Respect for Aged 3 a 

Respect for Parents .... 32, 34 
Temperance and Sobriety ... 47 

Truthfulness 45 

Indian Tweezers 131 

Indian Warbonnet 483 

Indian War Shirt (Illus.) .... 489 

Indian Wars, Cause of 46 

Indian Well 186 

Indian Winner at Olympic Games. 50 

Indian Women, Status of ... . 19 

Indian Work 508 

Indian Ways 468 

Indian's Creed, The 11 

Indian's Dark Side ...... 13 

Indians and Money 31 

Indians Despise Greed 31 

Indians, Seton 9 

Indians Taught Us Woodcraft and 

Scouting 58 



Indoor Competition 99 

Inuoor or Vv inter Activities. ... 90 

iujuriousness ot loDacco .... 237 

hits, irom i^ernes and Leaves a33 

liiscct ijorers as irood 343 

insect btings 334 

Inspection l&i 

Interesting Pursuits 196 

Internal i^leeoing 222 

ironwood 384 

Ivy, Poison 439 

ivy, 'i iuee-Leaved 430 

Jack-rabbit Tracks (Illus.) .... 394 

Jesuits on Iroquois Hospitality. . . 36 

Joseph, Chief of Nez Perces . . . saS 

Judas Tree 43i 

Juglandaces, or Walnut Family , . 365 

Julians cinerea 367 

Juglans nigra 365 

Juniper 350 

Juniperus virginiana 350 

Jupiter 128 

Kanakuk, the Kickapoo Prophet io-i8, 526 

Keen t:,yes 335 

Keep cool When Lost 13* 

keeper of the Canoes 180 

keeper of the Camplire .... 180 

keeper of the Garoage 180 

keeper of the Latrine 180 

keeper of the Letters 180 

keeper of the ^llk. and the Ice Box . 180 

kee^/ing the Vv inter Count .... 50a 

kentucky Cofiee i ree 433 

kephart's "iiook of Camping and 

Vvoodcraft" 186 

Ketchalive'i rap (Illus.) 385 

kindness of the Indian 34 

king Arthur 9 

king Cap J13 

king i,dward Died of Tobacco Heart. 238 

kingbird (illus.) 259. 36o 

knots (illus.) 100 

Labrador Tea (Illus.) 248 

Labrador Tea as a Drink .... 249 
Lace or Thong (Illus.) .... 194. I9S 

Lautau 29, 33, 47. Si 

Lament, The 68 

Lantern, Camp (Illus.) .... 133. '34 
Lantern, Woodman's (Illus.) . 133. »34 

Larch 33* 

Larix laricina 338 

Larus argcnlatus 253 

Latrine 178, 235 

Lauracese— Laurel Family . 419 

Laurel, Swamp 417 

Leatherstocking 9 

Ledum palustre (Illus.) 348 

Ledum groenlandicum 348 

Le Furet Song 81 

Leggings 493 

Lepiota morgani (Illus.) 3I5 

Lepus, the Hare 3*5 

Lessons of Lone-chief 510 

Leverwood . . . ' 384 

Lichens as Food 34S 



Index 



585 



Lightning 223 

Ljghts for Camps 133 

Lime Tree 450 

Linden 450 

Linuidambar Slyraci^ua 424 

Liriodendron TuUpi^era 415 

Literary Digest Article from . . 237 

Little Dogstar 122 

Little Fawn 476 

Little Wolf 5S 

Locust, Black 434 

Locust, Honey 432 

Locust, Sweet 432 

Locust, Yellow 434 

LoUakapop 187 

Lone Star Trick 102 

Loom for Grass Mats (Illus.) . . . 13s 

Loom, Navajo (Illus.) 136 

Loon (Illus.) 252, 254 

Lost in the Woods 130 

Lung Balm 228 

Lycoperdaceas 322 

Lycoperdon pyriforme 322 

Mcllvaine, Professor .... 30Q, 310 

Mcllvaine and Macadam . . .314, 326 

Mad Dog or Snake Bite 224 

Magic of the Campfire, The ... 4 

Magnolia acuminata 418 

Magnolia, Laurel. 417 

Magnolia, Mountain 418 

Magnolia virginiana 417 

Magnoliaceae — Magnolia Familj' . . 415 

Malaceae — Apple Family .... 430 

Male Fern (Illus.) 232 

Mallery 484 

Mammal Taxidermy 281 

Manhood Developed by Woodcraft . S 

Manhood, The First Aim of Education 5 

Manual Alphabet (Illus.) .... 150 

Maple, Ash-Leaved 446 

Maple, Black Sugar ...... 442 

Maple, Goosefoot 440 

Maple, Hard 441 

Maple, Mountain 443 

Maple, Red 444 

Maple, Rock 442 

Maple, Scarlet 444 

Maple, Silver 443 

Maple, Soft 443 

Maple, Striped 440 

Maple, Swamp 444 

Maple, Sugar 441 

Maple, Water 444 

Maple White 443 

Marasmius urens (Illus.) . . 315,316 

Marasmius, Woolly or Burning (Illus.) 

31S.316 

Mark Twain 238, 243, 308 

Mars 138 

Marshall, Nina L 324, 326 

Massacre of Cheyennes by Chivington 14 

Massacre of Indians by Baker ... 15 

Massacres of Whites 56 

Na-to-to-pa . . _ lo 

Measurement of Animals .... 281 

Medicine Man and His Ways, . 514 



PAGE 

Medicine, Woodland 22 

Melospiza melodia 363 

Mercury 128 

Merriam, Dr. C. Hart .... 281, 306 

Merrill, on Corruption of Cheyennes . 48 

Message of the Indian, The . . . 572 

Mice as Food 243 

Miles, Gen. Nelson A 529 

Milky Way 120 

Mimus polyglottos 265 

Mink Track (Illus.) m 

Mis<aw-wa 501 

Mishi-Mokwa Play 75 

Mizar 121 

Moccasin Making (Illus.) .... 492 

Moccasin Song 66 

Moccasins 493 

Mock^mut 374 

Mockingbird (Illus.j 265 

Monthly Programs 83 

Moon, The 129 

Moosewood 440 

Moraceae — Mulberry Family . . . 403 

Morel Mushrooms (Illus.) .... 321 
Morgan, on the Indian . : . . 45, 52 

Morning Star 128 

Morus rubra 413 

Moses as Advocate of Camping . . 3 

Mosquitoes, Black Flies, etc. . . . 186 

Mount Shasta 59 

Mounting a Homed Owl (Illus.) . 280 

Mounting Birds 275 

Mulberry, Red 413 

Mushroom Growing 325 

Mushroom Poisoning; Symptoms and 

Remedy 314 

Mushrooms, Beefsteak (Illus.) . . . 320 

Mushrooms, Boletus. . ... 324 

Mushrooms, Common 318 

Mushrooms, Coprinus 3J9 

Mushrooms, Coral (Illus.) . . 320, 321 

Mushrooms, Fungi, or Toadstools . 307 
Mushrooms, Morel (Illus.) . . . .321 

Mushrooms, Oyster (Ulus.) . . . . 318 

Mushrooms, Royal 313 

Mushrooms, To Cook .... 321, 323 

Mystic Dreamer, The 534 

Naming the Camp 502 

Nanni-chaddi, Wiping Out of . . . 539 

Nanny-berry, or Nanny-bush . 466 

Nantahay, Renegade Apache . . . 541 

Natural History 250 

N^vaho Feather Dance 212 

Navaho Loom (Illus.) 136 

Near-sightedness 23s 

Nebulas 120 

Necklace, Bear Claw (Illus.) . . . 203 

Needle Case 96 

Neptune 128 

Nettle Tree, 412 

Nez Perces, Medicine Tree of . . . 166 

Niblack, on Status of Indian Women . 40 

Nichols, C. A., on the Indian ... 51 

Nobleness of the Indian 57 

No-Heart, Story of 517 

Northern Cross (Ulus.) 121 



S86 



Index 



PAGE 

Northern Crown 121 

Nose-bleed 228, 422 

Nose Stopped Up at Night . . . 228 

Numerals, Signs for (Illus.) . . . . 151 

Nyssa syhatica 453 

Oak, Barren 400 

Oak, Bear 402 

Oak, Black 398 

Oak, Black Jack 400 

Oak, Bur, 390 

Oak, Chestnut 394 

Oak, Chinquapin Scrub 394 

Oak, Cork Bark 390 

Oak, Golden 398 

Oak, Iron 388 

Oak, Mossy Cup 390 

Oak, Overcup 389 

Oak, Pin 399 

Oak, Poison 439 

Oak, Post 388, 389 

Oak, Red 396 

Oak, Rock Chestnut 392 

Oak, Scarlet 397 

Oak, Scrub 402 

Oak, Scrub Chestnut 393 

Oak, Spanish 401 

Oak, Swamp 389, 399 

Oak, Swamp White 395 

Oak, Water 403 

Oak, White 386 

Oak, Yellow 394 

Obelisk of Luxor 156 

Oil Nut 367 

Ojibwa Snake Dance 74 

Oleaceae-HDlive Family, .... 455 

Olor buccinator 256 

Olor columbianus 256 

Olympic Games, Indian Winner at 50 
Omaha Bow, Bowcase, and Quiver 

(Illus.) S06 

Omaha Proverbs 514 

Omaha Tribal Prayer 61 

One-Day Hikes 93 

Orange Dye 502 

Orange, Osage 414 

Origin of Woodcraft Indians ... 9 

Oriole, Baltimore (Illus.) .... 262 

Orion (Illus.) 122 

Osceola 18 

Osier, Golden 354 

Ostyra virginiana 384 

Otus asio 252 

Outdoor Life, Principles of ... . 4 

Outdoor Proverbs 117 

Outdoor Sleeping 142 

Outfit for Party of Six 173 

Owl, Barred or Hoot (Illus.) . 2^1, 21;^ 

Owl, Cat (Illus.) 252, 253 

Owl, Great Horned (Illus.) . . 232, 253 

Owl, Homed, Mounting (Illus.) 280 

Owl, Screech (Illus.) 252, 253 

Owl, To Mount (Illus.) . . . . 279,280 

Oyster Mushrooms (Illus.) .... 318 

Paints, Indian 499 

Painted Paddles (Illus.) .... 493, 494 



PAGE 

Painting, Why? 501 

Padus serolina 428 

Panus, Puckery (Illus.) .... 315, 316 
Partus stipticus (Illus.) .... 315, 316 

Pappoose 120 

Peace of Mind 56 

Peace Pipe (Illus.) 493, 494 

Peace Pipe Ceremony 64 

Peach Stone Baskets 96 

Pecan 369 

Pelecanus erythrorhynchos .... 2S4 

Pelican (Illus.) 254, 2SS 

Penn, William, Honorable with In<ians 46 
Penobscot Bow (Illus.) .... 505, 506 

Penlhcates A rlricapillus 266 

Pepperidge 453 

Persimmon 454 

Phidippides, Greek Runner ... 49 

Photographing Tracks 286 

Physique of the Indian 49 

Picea canadensis 339 

Picea Mariana 341 

Picea ruhens 342 

Picket Rope Knot . ' 101 

Pictography 153 

Picture Frames 07 

Picture to Record Exploit (Ulus.) . . 157 

Picture-writing (Illus.) 1$$ 

Picturesqueness in Everything . . 7 

Pig Tracks (Illus,) 306 

Pimples and Skin Rash 228 

Pinaces — Conifers or Pine Family. . 329 

Pine, Banksian 332 

Pine, Bull 334 

Pine, Canadian 330 

Pine, Candlewood 337 

Pine, Frankincense 336 

Pine, Georgia 331 

Pine, Gray 332 

Pine, Hard 331 

Pine, Hickory 335 

Pine, Hudson Bay 332 

Pine, Jack 332 

Pine, Jersey 333 

Pine, Labrador 332 

Pine, Loblolly 336 

Pine, Long-Leaved 33 1 

Pine, Northern Scrub 332 

Pine, Norway 33° 

Pine, Old Field 336 

Pine, Pitch 337 

Pine, Red 33° 

pine. Sap 337 

Pine, Scrub m 

Pine, Short-Leaved 334 

Pine, Southern 331 

Pine, Spruce . 334 

Pine, Table Mountain 335 

Pine, Torch 337 

Pine, Weymouth 329 

Pine, White 329 

Pine, Yellow 33i. 334 

Pinus Banksiana 332 

Pinus echinata 334 

Pinus paluslris 33 1 

Pinus pungens 335 



Index 



587 



PAGE 

Pinus resinosa — . 33° 

Pinus rigida 337 

Pinus Strobus 32Q 

Piirns TcBda 336 

Pinus virginiana 333 

Pipe, Peace (Illus.) 493, 494 

Piranga erylhromelas 264 

Pita-Leshani SS 

Plane Tree 42S 

Planesiicus migralorius 267 

Planets, The 124 

Platanacese — Plane Tree Family . . 425 

Platanus occidenlalis 42 S 

Pleclrophenax nivalis 262 

Pleiades as a Test of Eyesight . . . 124 

Plenty-Coups, Chief of Crows . . . 485 

Pleurotus ostreatus 318 

Podus virginiana 427 

Pointers 128 

Poison Game 214 

Poison Ivy (lUus.) 229 

Poison Ivy Sting, To Cure . . . 22S, 438 

Poison Sumac (Illus.) 230 

Poisoning Apaches 539 

Poisonous Toadstools (Illus.) . 310 

Polaris (Illus.) 118 

Pole Star (Illus.) 118 

Pole Star Game 208 

Politeness of the Indian 41 

Pontiac 55 

Poplar, Aspen 357 

Poplar, Balsam 361 

Poplar, Black 360 

Poplar, Downy 360 

Poplar, Lombardy 364 

Poplar, Silver 363 

Poplar, Swamp 360 

Poplar, Yellow 415 

Poplar, White 363 

Popple 357 

Populus alba 363 

Populus augustifolia 360 

Populus Balsamifera 361 

Populus Dcltoides 362 

Populus dilalata 364 

Populus grandidentata 359 

Populus hetcropholla 360 

Populus trcmuloides 357 

Position of Indian Women .... 19 

Pot Hanger (Illus.) 1S8 

Pot Hooks (Illus.) 190 

Prayers of the Indian . . .22, 24, 512 

Preparation of Skins of Animals (Illus.) 2S3 

Preserving Small Mammal Skins(Illus.) 281 

Principles of Outdoor Life .... 4 

Principles of Scouting 3 

Procyon 122 

Progne subis 264 

Program of Entertainment .... 92 

Programs, Monthly 83 

Proverbs of the Omahas Si4 

Proverbs, Outdoors ii7 

Providence of the Indian .... 18,30 

Prowess of Indian 29 

Puffball, Brain (Illus.) .... 322, 323 

PufEball, Cup (Illus.) 323 

Puffball, Giant (Illus.) .... 322, 323 



PAGE 

Puffballs, To Cook 323 

Purges 230 

Purple Grackle (Illus.) 262 

Purple Martin 264 

Quail or Bob white (Illus.) .... 258 

Quercitron 398 

Quercus alba 386 

Quercus bicolor 395 

Quercus coccinea 397 

Quercus ilicifolia 402 

Quercus lyrala 389 

Quercus macrocarpa 390 

Quercus marilandica 400 

Qttercus Muhlenbergii 394 

Quercus nigra 403 

Quercus paluslris 399 

Quercus prinoides 393 

Quercus prinus 392 

Quercus rubra 396 

Quercus stellata . 388 

Quercus triloba 401 

Quercus velulina 398 

Question Sign (Illus.) 152 

Quiche's Myth of Creation .... 513 

Quicksight Game (Illus.) .... 207 
Quinine, Substitutes for. . . . 352, 357 

Quiscalus quiscala 262 

Quiver Leaf 357 

Rabbit Hunt Game 209 

Rabbit and Hare Tracks (Illus.) . . 293 

Rabbit Snare (Illus.) 242 

Rabbits as Food 241 

Railway Code 169 

Railway Signals . . 168 

Rake, Camp (Illus.) 138 

Rat-on-his-lodge Game 215 

Rawhide or Leather as Food . . . 243 

Red Bud 431 

Red Dye Soi 

Red Paint 5°° 

Redman, America's Debt to the . . 8 
Red tailed Hawk (Illus.). . . .250,251 

Reedbird (Illus.) 261 

Reef Knot 100 

Reindeer Moss 24S 

Religion of the Indian .... 21, 23 

Remedies, Wildwood 225 

Repellene 187 

Reveille Song 82 

Rheumatism 230 

Rheumatism, Indian Cure for ... 26 

Rhus copallina 437 

Rhus glabra 435 

Rhus hirta 435 

Rhus Fernix 439 

Richardson, Dr. J 248 

Rigel 123 

River Eridanus 124 

Robe or War-Shirt Contest. ... 91 

Robm (Illus.) 266,267 

Robin Hood . 91 

Rohinia Pseudacacia 434 

Rock Tripe (Illus.) 245. 247 

Rouser or Reveille Song 82 

Rowley, John T 28 



588 



Index 



PAGE 

Rubber Beds i8s 

Rubbing-stick Fire io8 

Ruby-throated Hummingbird . . . 259 

Ruffed Grouse or Partridge (lUus.) . 258 

Runners, Indian 49 

Running Noose 100 

Russula emetica (lUus.) . . . . 31S. 3i6 

Saiph 123 

Salicaceae — the Willow Family . . 352 

Salix alba 354 

Salix Bebbiana 3S6 

Salix discolor 3SS 

Silix Fragilis 353 

Salix nigra 352 

Salve, Balsam 346 

Samhucus canadensis 461 

Sambucus pubens 462 

Sassafras (lUus.) 226, 420 

Sassafras Sassafras 420 

Sassafras, Swamp 417 

Saturn 128 

Scalds 222 

Scalp Dance 65 

Scalps 507 

Scarlet Dye 502 

Scarlet Tanager (Illus.) .... 263, 264 

Schultz, J. W IS, 25, 38, S17 

Scout Messenger, Game 211 

Scout, The Trained 512 

Scouts, Indian 9, 57 

Scouting 206 

Scouting Indoors 96 

Scouting, Medley 218 

Scouting, Principles of 3 

Screech Owl (Illus.) 252, 2S3 

Seagull, Common (Illus.) . . . 252, 254 
Self-Control of the Indian .... 47 
Self-Government mth Adult Guidance 4 

Serviss, Garrett P 123, 129 

Seton Indians 9 

Seven Dancers 12S 

Sex Matters 239 

Seymour, Gov. Horatio 16 

Sheep-berry 466 

Sheep Rock Shoulder 59 

Sheep Tracks (Illus.) 306 

Sheet Bend Knot 100 

Shepherd's Star 128 

Sheridan, Gen. Philip H is 

Shock, or Nervous Collapse. . . . 223 

Shot Signals 165 

Shut Your Mouth 236 

Sialia sialis 267 

Sibley, General 468 

Sign Language 144 

Sign Language, Dictionary of . . . 148 
Sign for Question (Illus.) .... 152 
Sign "Very Much" (Illus.) . . . 154 
Signs: 

In Blazes (Illus.) 162 

Indian 144, 166 

In Grass (Illus.) 162, 163 

In Stones (Illus.) . . . 162, 163, 166 

In Twigs (Illus. — 162, 163 

Smoke Signals (Illus.). . . .162,164 
Special 162, 165 



PAGE 

Signals: 

By Shots i6s 

Color 169 

Cord-Pull 174 

Engine Whistles 169, 170 

Hand, Flag, and Lamp .... 169 

Railway 168 

Smoke (Illus.) 162, 164 

Weather (Illus.) 167 

Signaling and Indian Signs . . . .144 

Silence, The Indian 515 

Silver Chain Tree 434 

Sims 122 

Sitting Bull's War Song 62 

Skin Rash 228 

Skins of Animals, To Preserve (Illus.). 281 

Skunk Track (Illus.) 112 

Skur-ar-ale-shar, Lessons of . . . 510 

Slip Knot 100 

Sleeping Bags 185 

Sleeping Outdoors 142 

Sloe 467 

Smoke Signals (Illus.) . . . . 162, 164 

Snake Bite 224 

Snake Dance, Ojibwa 158 

Snapping Turtle Tracks (Illus.) . . 30s 

Snowbird (Illus.) 262 

Sobriety of the Indian 47 

Socialist, The Indian as a . . . 18, SS 

Socks, Dry 236 

Song Books, Indian 80 

Songs: 

Bird Dance Song 66 

Coona Luna 66 

Ghost Dance Song 63 

Lament or Dirge 68 

Moccasin Song 66 

Omaha Tribal Prayer 61 

Rouser or Reveille 82 

Sitting Bull's War Song .... 62 
Weasel in the Wood .... 80,217 

Song sparrow (Illus.) 263 

Sore Throat, Wash for 233 

Sores and Wounds 231 

Souvenir Spoons 98 

Spartans of the West, The .... 9 

Spear, Throwing the 217 

Spearhead (Illus.) 204 

Spearing the Great Sturgeon (Ulus.) . 204 

Special Signs 162, 165 

Spice Bush (Illus.) 226, 419 

Spoons, Carved 96, 99 

Spoons, Souvenir 98 

Spore Prints of Toadstools, to Make . 309 

Spot the Rabbit (Illus.) 208 

Spruce, Black 341 

Spruce, Red 342 

Spruce, Swamp 341 

Spruce, White 339 

Square Knot 100 

Squaw-berry 501 

Squirrel, Gray, White Oak Forestation 

Due to 387 

Stag Bush 467 

Star Names 119 

Stars (Illus.) 118 

Starvation Foods 240 



Index 



589 



PAGE 

Step on the Rattler Game .... 214 

Still Hunting (Illus.) 199 

Stings, Insect 224 

Storm Cap or Bull Boat (Illus. ) . . 471 

Storm Warnings (Illus.) 168 

Story of No-Heart Si7 

Straw Club (Illus.) 202 

Strong Hand Game 213 

Strix varia 251 

Stuffing a Bird (Illus.) 268 

Stuffing an Animal 279 

Sturgeon, Spearing (Illus.) .... 204 

Sturgeon, Wooden (Illus.) .... 204 

Sturges, Colonel S29 

Sugarberry . . . _ 412 

Suggested Camp Routine .... 92 

Suggested Programs 83 

Suggestions for Evenings .... 87 

Sumac (Illus.) 233 

Sumac, Black 437 

Sumac, Dwarf 437 

Sumac, Smooth or Scarlet .... 43s 

Sumac, Staghom 43S 

Sumac, Poison (Illus.) .... 230, 438 

Sumac, Upland, or Mountain . . . 437 

Sumac, Velvet 435 

Summary of Indian Character ... 55 

Summer Camp 172 

Sunburn 31 

Sundial, How to Make (Illus.) . . 132 

Sunstroke 222 

Sure Death Toadstools 310 

Swallow, Bam (Illus.) 264 

Swan, Trumpeter 256 

Swan, Whistling 256 

Sweat Lodge 26, 234 

Sweat Producer 232 

Sweet Birch (Illus.) 232 

Sycamore 425 

Tacamahac 361 

Tackle Box or Ditty Bo.x .... 06 

Tally Keeper 180 

Tamarack 338 

Tanager, Scarlet (Illus.). . . . 263, 264 

Tanning, Hemlock Bark for . . . 343 

Tapeworm 232 

Target, Standard 502 

Taxidermy (Illus.) 268 

Taxndium dislkhum 347 

Tecumseh or Tecumtha . . . 10,55,524 

Tecumseh's Humanity 18 

Teepee Cover, Complete (Illus.) . . 470 

Teepee, Decorations of a (Illus.) . . 474 

Teepee Etiquette 42 

Teepee Poles (Illus.) 473 

Teepee, Putting Up the (Illus.) . 472, 473 

Teepees (Illus.) 177, 468 

Temperance and Sobriety of the Indian 47 

Tenskwatawa, the Prophet . . . 525 

Tents 177 

Tests of Death 224 

Thoreau, on the Red Maple . . . 44s 

Thorn Apple 430 

Three Kmgs 123 

Thrift and Providence of the Indian . 29 

Throat, Irritated ai8 



PAGE 

Throwing the Spear 217 

Thrush, Wood (Illus.) 266 

Thuja occidenlalis 348 

Thunder Bull, Cheyenne Chief. . . 468 

Thunder BuU's Teepee (Illus.) ... 474 

Tilia americana 450 

Tilia heterophylla 450 

Tilia pubescens 450 

TiUaceas — Linden Family .... 450 

Tilting in the Water 197 

Tilting Spears (Ulus.) loi 

Timber Hitch loi 

Tippecanoe 525 

Toadstool Books Recommended . . 325 

Toadstool Dangers 308 

Toadstool Poisoning: Symptoms and 

Remedy 314 

Toadstools 307 

Toadstools as Food 244 

Toadstools, Kinds of 309 

Toadstools, Poisonous (Illus.) . . . 310 

Toadstools, Safety in 324 

Toadstools, To Make Spore Prints of. 309 

Toadstools, Uncertain Kinds . 323 

Toadstools, Unwholesome . . . 315 

Toadstools, Wholesome (Illus.) . . 318 

Tobacco, D«adliness of 237 

Tobacco, Forbidden to Indian Youth. 49 

Toes, Don't Turn Out 237 

Tonics 233 

Tools for Fire Making (Illus.) . . 109, no 

Totem Pole (Illus.) 183 

Toxyton pomiferum 414 

Track Photography 286 

Tracks: 

Books and .Articles on .... 306 

Brook Turtle (Illus.) 305 

Cat (Illus.) 30s 

Deer (Illus.) 306 

Dog (Illus.) 30s 

Dog and Cat (Illus.) .... 288, 290 

Fox (Illus.) 298 

Mink (Illus.) 117 

Newton Jack-Rabbit (Illus.). 29s 

No Two Alike 287 

of a City Woman (Illus.). . . . 305 

of a Young Hunter (Illus.) . . 305 

of an Old Man (Illus.) .... 3°S 

of the Fox's Hunt (Illus.) . . 302 

Pig (nius.) 306 

Rabbits and Hares (Illus.) . . 293 

Sheep (Illus.) 306 

Skunk (Illus.) 112 

Snapping Turtle (Illus.) . . . . 3°5 

Wolf (Illus.) 291 

Trail Secrets 285 

Trailing 286 

Trailing Game 216 

Trapping Animals (Illus.) .... 285 

Treachery of the Whites .... 20 

Tree the Coon Game 212 

Trees, Process of Growth .... 346 
Trichnloma sulphureum (IWus.) . . 31S. 316 

Trochilus colubris 259 

Truthfulness and Honor of the Indian. 45 
Tshut-che-nau, Chief of the Kansas, 

10, 21, 33, 43. 4S. 47 



590 



Index 



PAGE 

Tshut-che-nau, Teachings of sii 

Tsuga canadensis 343 

Tsuga Caroliniana 343 

Tub-tilting on Land 198 

Tulip Tree 41S 

Tupelo 4S3 

Turkey Call 96 

Turkey Vulture (Dlus.) .... ass, 25.5 

Turtle Tracks (Illus.) 305 

Tweezers, Indian 131 

Twig Signs (Illus.) 163. 163 

Twin, Stars The 127 

Two-Bright-Eyes i-'7 

Two Half -hitches 100 

Tyrannus tyrannus 259 

Ulmaceae — Elm Family 407 

Ulmiis alati 411 

Utmus Americana 407 

Ulmus fulva 408 

Ulmus Thomasi 410 

United States Signal Service . . . 167 

Uranus laS 

Vapor Baths of Indians .... 26 

Venus 128 

Viburnum acerifolium 464 

Viburnum dentatum 465 

Viburnum Lentago 466 

Viburnum Opmlus 463 

Viburnum prunifMum 467 

Viburnum, Sweet 466 

Vinegar Tree 435 

Volva, Sticky 317 

Volvaria gloiocephelus 317 

Vow of Dog Soldiers 181 

Vulture 252 

Wabasha, Teachings of . . 10, 18, 55, 509 

Wahoo 411 

Walnut, Black 365 

Walnut, White 367 

Warbonnet, Details of (Illus.) . . 486, 487 

Warbonnet, Indian 483 

Warbonnet, Making the (Illus.) . . 488 
War Bow of the Penobscots (Illus.) 505, 506 

War Clubs (Illus.) 493, 494 

War Sack . . 194 

War Shirt, Beaded (Illus.) .... 490 

War Shirt Contest 91 

War Shirt, Indian (Illus.) .... 489 
War Shirt, Quill Worked (Illus.) . . 491 

Wars, Cause of Indian 46 

Wash for Sore Throat 233 

Washakie 10, 55 

Watching by the Trail Game . . . 316 

Water 186 

Water Boiling Contest 318 

Wattap 339 

Wax-end Lashing loi 

Ways, Indian 468 

Weasel in the Wood Game . . . 80, 217 
Weather Flags (Illus.) .... 167, 168 



PAGE 

Weather Signals (Illus.) 167 

Weather \\ isdom 115 

Weaver's Knot 100 

Wetamoo, the Woman Sachem. . . 40 
White Call, Chief of Blackieet. . . 531 

White Massacres 56 

White Paint 500 

White Swan, One of Custer's Scouts . 148 

White Treachery 30, 537, 539 

Whipple, liishop 44, S3 

Whistle-wood 450 

Whistles, l;asswood, To Make . . 450 

Whistles, Elder 461 

White-Wood 415, 450 

\\ idenrriann, on Indian Honesty . . 45 
Wild Duck or Mallard (Illus.) . . 254, 2S6 

W ild Guelder Rose 463 

W ildwood Remedies or Simples . . 22s 

W illow, Eebb's 356 

Willow, I lack ' . . 352 

Willow, Brittle 333 

Willow, Crack 333 

Willow, Fish-Net 356 

Willow, Glaucous .■ 355 

W illow, Golden 354 

W illow. Pussy 355 

W illow, W hite 354 

Willow, W ithy 356 

Willow, Yellow 354 

WiCow Led (Illus.) 495 

W innemucca. Teachings of . . . 509 

W inter Activities 90 

W inter Iloom 422 

W inter-count. Keeping the .... 502 

W'intergreen (Illus.) 229 

Witch Hazel (Illus.) .... 230, 422 

Wolf Tracks (llluf.) 291 

Women, Indian Treatment of . . . 37 
Women, Status ol Indian .... 38 

Wood, Dr. Casey 236 

Woods, Tested for Durability . . . 357 
Woodcraft Buttons (Illus.) .... 194 
Woodcraft Indians, Origin of . . . 9 

W'oodcraft, \ eaning of s 

Woodcraft Pursuits 5 

Woodland Medicine 228 

W'oodland Songs, Dances and Cere- 
monies 61 

Woodman, Accom.plishments of . . 5 
Woodman's Lantern (Illus.) . . 133, 134 
Woodpecker, Downy (Illus.) . . 259, 260 

Worms 233, 234 

Wounded Knee Massacre .... 535 

Wounds 223, 231 

Wound-wash 225 

W^ovoka, the Prophet of the Ghost 

Dance 534 

Wren, Common House (Illus ) . . . 365 

Yellow Dye 501 

Yellow Paint 500 

Zenaidura. tnacfoura 258 




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